


To Dream of Distant Shores (ABANDONED)

by VincentMeoblinn



Series: Finish Me [16]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Culture, Homophobia, Immortality, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentMeoblinn/pseuds/VincentMeoblinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gimli has fallen hard for Legolas, but the Elf has heard the call of the sea and the Undying Lands. Besides, thousands of years of different culture stands between them and a physical relationship… unless one of them is prepared to leave their kind forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“First the Glittering Caves,” Gimli replied, “They’re the closest to us.”

“Agreed,” Legolas nodded for the third time that day, “And then Fangorn.”

“Second closest,” Gimli replied gruffly. He wasn’t excited to go, but he’d promised and there was no arguing with geography. That is, until they came to the third place to visit.

Gimli wanted to take Legolas to the Lonely Mountain to see a properly established Dwarven homestead without the mess that Orcs made of them (the dragon filth had long been cleaned up by the hard-working Dwarrow) but Legolas was already hesitant to go into a _cave_ let alone climb under a mountain again. Legolas wanted to take Gimli to Mirkwood to meet his kin there, but Gimli didn’t want to visit a place his father and uncle had been held hostage in. Both had the same reason for wanting to drag the other to the place of their fathers: unity between Dwarf and Elf.

“How are we to set aside hundreds of years of hate if we can’t even decide on _this_ without arguing?” Legolas asked sadly.

“Maybe the arguing isn’t the problem,” Frodo suggested from his corner of Minas Tirith’s royal guestrooms, “Maybe the problem is the journey.”

“Hmph!” Gimli huffed, “It sounds to me like you’re just restating the first with the second. We’re _arguing_ about the _journey_.”

“No,” Frodo gave himself a subtle shake, as if waking from a dream, and turned to give them his full attention, “I mean the _starting_ , not the planning. Uncle Bilbo always said a journey was best started by putting your feet out the door, because you could never be prepared for every eventuality.”

They sat in silence a moment, Frodo’s eyes drifting back out the window as their friend once more fell into the silent stillness that had enveloped him since waking from his long sleep after the horrors of Mordor. The Elves had healed his body well enough, but his mind was a wounded thing. They had all returned to Gondor for Aragorn’s wedding and were planning on saying goodbye to each other a week after the festivities. Perhaps forever, given the distance between their lands. The hobbits were heading home at their own speed, apparently content to go alone despite many offers of assistance. They had found the bravery they had claimed small folk didn’t have and were heading home with a sense of peace in their hearts. Aragorn was to marry in two nights and ascend the throne of two kingdoms, finally uniting them. Gandalf had already vanished off into wizard business, but promised to return for the wedding (and the wedding wine) in time. Shadowfax being his to keep, no one doubted his word even though wizards could be a shifty lot. Boromir had been given a proper funeral, followed shortly thereafter by his brother’s wedding. They would also attend the wedding and then head off quickly after.

Only Gimli and Legolas planned to continue their strange fellowship, but that was only if they could persuade the other from going off on their own. Gimli had been given Lordship of the Glittering Caves. For now he was content to visit them and make plans, but he intended to settle there. Legolas was feeling the call of the sea and only his promises to spend time with Gimli and help with the repairs after the war kept him on dry land. Each was determined to change the other’s mind… and repair the gap between their people before they settled down into whichever path they chose.

“Perhaps the hobbit is right,” Gimli grunted.

Legolas smirked. Gimli 32, Legolas 31. He was winning as this game depended on a lower score. Gimli knew it but didn’t want to wait longer to make their decision. Instead he stood up and rolled the maps up with a sense of finality.

“We have our first two destinations planned out. We’ll revisit this after Fangorn… assuming we survive the Ents.”

“We’ve no reason to…” Legolas started, but Gimli held up a hand to stop him from unintentionally restarting the argument. Legolas nodded with an apologetic smile.

Gimli 31, Legolas 32.

“Come, Master Elf,” Gimli grinned, “We have a wedding gift to buy.”

“You… you’ve gotten _nothing_ yet?!” Legolas asked in shock, standing quickly, “The wedding is in two nights!”

“Aye,” Gimli nodded, “I hate to put shopping off to the last minute though, so I’m going to the market tonight. The more _interesting_ stuff is out at night after the wee ones are in bed and the lanterns lit.”

The Dwarf gave him a lascivious wink and headed for the door. Legolas debated for a moment, and then was on his feet and following his friend with an eager grin.

Gimli 33, Legolas 30.

Gimli wasn’t wrong. There were all sorts of things at the market that would make Legolas’ father blush and his mother faint. While Elves were no strangers to sex, even Legolas would admit they were prudes. There was a reason they only had a handful of children in their long, long lives. As far as Legolas was aware- from his own experience as no one would _ever_ discuss such things- Elves had active sex drives, but would hesitate to ask even a long-time spouse for intimacy beyond the delicate touch of a few fingers. Mirkwood Elves were freer with their affections, which was why Legolas had three siblings, but he’d travelled more than his kin and had felt the sting of shame from his Silvan kin.

“What is _that_ for?” Legolas whispered, finally daring to ask about the glass item Gimli was admiring. It seemed harmless, in fact it was quite pretty, but since he’d been studying it for a while and mentioned more than once that he was looking for something for the wedding _night_ …

“Oh this?” Gimli asked, decidedly _not_ whispering, “Pretty fancy for a butt plug, eh?”

Legolas wasn’t sure how to calculate the score on that one considering the fact he wasn’t actually capable of using his Elven abilities to sink through the cracks in the ground. Gimli must have decided the score wasn’t _quite_ high enough, because he took in the confused and horrified look on Legolas’ face and added to his explanation.

“It’s for prepping for safe lancing.”

“Is there such a thing?” Legolas asked in complete confusion, trying to figure out how such a device was used in tournaments and why it was named for such a foul part of the body.

“Yer not serious? You know, storming the rear gate? Muddy sheathing?”

Legolas continued to look confused so Gimli finally replied with a straight answer, “It’s for having sex in the bum.”

“In the… why would someone _do_ such a thing?!” Legolas asked, putting a hand over his mouth in revulsion.

“Because it feels good,” Gimli laughed, “Haven’t you ever sheathed yer sword in the-?”

“No!” Legolas squeaked, deciding Gimli had irreparably won. Perhaps he’d be open to starting a fresh game? “No Elf would ever do such a filthy thing!”

The air around them suddenly became _quite_ cold. Gimli was frowning. Not his usual frown that was part of his daily expression but one of true displeasure. Legolas hadn’t seen it directed at him in so long that he took a step back in surprise. That was when he took in the glares he was receiving from all around him. _Many_ people were looking at the same display Gimli was, most of them men but a few of them the gentler sex as well. Judging by the expression of one such female human, Gimli fit the description of ‘gentler’ better than she did.

“Apologies for my outburst,” Legolas replied, and then turned to flee the strange stand and it’s colourful but disgusting objects.

Gimli did not follow. Legolas was now certain their game was over.

XXX

He didn’t see Gimli again until the day of the wedding, and he looked as if he’d not slept well at all. Legolas strode forward intending on teasing him and asking for a peek at his gift, but Gimli held out a scroll between them as if it were a weapon.

“What’s this?” Legolas asked, opening their map with all the marks on it for their trip.

“You’ll have to go alone. Or not at all. See ye at the festivities,” Gimli stated, looking not the least bit happy about his statement.

“Gimli, wait!” Legolas caught at his beard, drawing a grumble from him, “What of our promises?”

“Feel free to call on me for a favour if ever you need it,” Gimli replied, pulling his beard carefully from Legolas’ long fingers, “I think fondly of you, Mast… Legolas. Make no mistake of that.”

“Then why end our plans before they could bear fruit? We were to unite our people!”

“We’re too different,” Gimli shook his head, a sad look on his face, “Our kind will never get on. Let’s part as friends before this becomes… bitter.”

“Because of a flustered word at a shop stall?!” Legolas asked, his voice rising without meaning to, “At least let me explain!”

“I think it’s best if you don’t,” Gimli winced.

“My people view… intimacy… as something private. Even married couples would not say things to each other in _private_ as openly as you did in a group of strangers. I hold nothing against you; I was merely alarmed and out of my depth. I ask you to consider it a result of culture shock. Forgive me, Gimli,” Legolas pleaded.

“I… I’ve done that.”

“Forgiven me?” Legolas asked, letting his happiness and hope show.

“No… well, I wasn’t… there’s nothing to forgive, friend,” Gimli replied with a sad smile.

Legolas’ smile vanished, “Your resolve to end our association has not changed.”

“I meant,” Gimli sighed, “I’ve done that… thing that you think is disgusting.”

“Wh-why?!” Legolas asked, and then shook his head, “No. Don’t answer that.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna,” Gimli replied, eyes piercing him, “I’ve done that because I was in love with him.”

“You mean her.”

“I mean _him_.”

“You… him?” Legolas asked, eyes wide. He’d never heard of such a thing. No Elf would _ever_ consider having sex in a way that would not be able to result in pregnancy, and so far as he was aware in his centuries of life two men could not lie together and conceive. True, there were songs, but they always ended in disaster and death!

“Aye,” Gimli nodded, his eyes daring Legolas to speak against his lover, “He was sweet and kind and had a beard like spun gold. I loved him and we made love _often_. Right up until he died in the Battle of Five Armies. I was at home because of my age- just a decade younger than he- so I didn’t even get to _bury_ him!”

Gimli’s eyes were wet with unshed tears and Legolas could _feel_ his pain. It tore at his heart.

“Forgive me, Gimli,” Legolas whispered softly, “I meant no foul word against someone you cared for.”

“ _Loved_ , Elf! I _loved_ him! Since then I’ve not been closer to anyone save you!”

“I’m honoured,” Legolas replied softly.

“Are you?” Gimli asked, his gaze piercing.

“I swear to you I am,” Legolas replied, “I’ve known few I have cared for as much as you, Gimli. Most are related to me by blood. I think of you as a brother and would present you as such to my father.”

Gimli winced. Perhaps he was thinking again of their days-long argument.

“I… I would be honoured,” Gimli said, his tone depressed.

“I’ve opened an old wound,” Legolas replied, “It seems I have much to atone for.”

“No,” Gimli replied, “I’m the fool of a Dwarf who tore open my heart for you. Forgive me as well?”

“Always,” Legolas replied, clapping him on the shoulder, “We should bathe and dress for the wedding.”

“Stuffy clothes,” Gimli grumbled miserably, heading for his rooms to get himself the things he needed for the bathhouse.

“I’ll go first!” Legolas called out, “I’ve no idea where that arse of yours has been, after all… or what’s been in it!”

Legolas listened carefully for the harsh guffaw that followed that remark. Their friendship was restored!

Gimli 0, Legolas 1.

XXX

Legolas was tipsy on spring wine and high on the happiness of newly wedded bliss. The men and women around him were equally drunk if not more so, dancing and groping each other scandalously. Legolas was just loose enough from the drink to watch and bask in his growing arousal rather than turning his nose up and looking away as he ought. Gimli was laughing and spinning about the floor, dancing with men and women alike. He claimed not to know the difference when the men were shaved as Legolas was and often referred to him as a woman. Legolas couldn’t tell if it as a joke or not.

“Master Elf!” Gimli boomed, too drunk to know he was shouting, “Come and dance!”

“I think you’ve danced enough for the both of us,” Legolas replied, hiding his smile behind his glass.

“Yer too pretty to be a wallflower, isn’t he ladies?!”

“Yet flowers are what my people are most associated with,” Legolas replied once the agreed cheers had subsided.

“Enough!” Gimli barked, grabbing his arm and pulling, “It’s time to revel, and by Durin’s Hammer _you_. _Will. Revel!_ ”

Legolas laughed as he was pulled into the dance, spinning about the floor and grasping arm after arm as he easily took to a style he’d never moved to before now. Gimli’s arm grasped his from time to time, but after a while he realized he wasn’t dancing with him anymore. Legolas extracted himself from the group, dizzy and still laughing lightly, and looked around for his friend. Gimli was at a table, sitting at it with a flagon in his hand and staring at Legolas glumly. The Elf headed over.

“Has your drink turned you morose?”

“Aye,” Gimli replied, giving it an accusing glare, “It will never love me.”

“No,” Legolas chuckled, “But you will always love it.”

“Too true, more the fool I.”

“Come along, Lockbearer. To bed with you and sleep off the ill effects of your draught.”


	2. Chapter 2

Travelling with just the two of them was far different than travelling with the fellowship or even the two of them and Aragorn. As they’d travelled with the fellowship it had been the norm to bathe in two groups (when bathing was possible) one watching the supplies while the other group bathed together to stay safe, then they would switch. Now it was just he and Gimli and it was more logical to take an oiled sack, hang it low on a tree, pour in water heated over the fire, and boost the other into it. Legolas had found this method odd at first, but apparently this was a common Dwarrow bath method.

His only difficulty was that this method was far more… intimate than the previous way they’d bathed together. Before there had been much hurried washing, no time or safety for the roughhousing that might have happened, and then a quick sprint back to clothes to redress while mostly still wet. Nudity was less a taboo than sex for Elves, but it was still rude to look and downright _shameful_ to touch even a foot or arm if one was not your spouse. Now he was heaving a naked Gimli in, waiting for him to announce he was done, reaching clasped hands into the “bath” to help him hop out, and then making up more water for his own bath. Out of respect for their friendship he swallowed his discomfort and carefully did _not_ look as Gimli roughly dried himself with a bit of absorbent cloth before dressing.

Except he _did_ look. Gimli’s words had confused Legolas and brought a great deal of curiosity to the forefront of his mind. That and it turned out the bastard had bought him a wooden buttplug as a joke and placed it in his things.

Gimli 9, Legolas 9.

Gimli wasn’t so much hairy as _furry_. His entire body was covered in curly red hair so thick that he was always surprised to see white flesh beneath it. His face and hands were tan, but the rest of his body was the pale white that redheads often sported. Legolas found himself wanting to run his fingers through the hair on his chest or back to see what it felt like. He also wanted to know what was so fascinating about another man’s arse that made him want to stick a buttplug in it. He had an imagination. It hadn’t taken him more than a few seconds to realize how anal sex was done, but to understand _why?_ That was far more upsetting. Wouldn’t it hurt? Would it even feel good to either person? Did it feel like regular sex? Possibly not if men did it with women as well, rather than as a last resort with another man one happened to fall in love with. The thing was, he could see that happening. He could understand a man loving another man as intensely as a woman, to the point that he was willing to endure pain to give the other pleasure. What frightened him was that when he thought of this it was Gimli’s face that he saw contorted in passion. Despite his societal conventions, Legolas was no blushing virgin. He’d coaxed another Elven woman into bed with him once when he was a mere sixty years old and she fifty-five. It had been awkward and embarrassing enough that they’d not spoken for more than a decade. A few centuries later he’d had a far more satisfying encounter with a woman he was courting. They’d nearly married but her father had pulled her out of it at the last moment. She was still unmarried, and sadly nothing had come of their tryst.

“You’re staring again,” Gimli chuckled, “For a shy people you truly do enjoy gaping at my hairy arse.”

“All physical forms are beautiful, my people are not shy about the artistic side of a dressed _or_ nude body. And I’ve never seen one so hairy before,” Legolas smirked.

They were tied at the moment.

“Care for a closer look?” Gimli teased back, “I could pose for you? Perhaps a painting would sate your curiousity?”

Gimli struck a laughable pose, as if he were one of those fat, naked, winged babies human architects favoured. Legolas nearly fell off his rock laughing, slapping his knee as he shook his head in amusement.

Gimli 12, Legolas 10.

“My friend surely I’d run out of paint if I tried to capture each and _every_ hair, and to feature such a majestic rug I _must_ use detail.”

“I’d tell you I’ll be patient,” Gimli winked, “But I must admit that winter might come before you finished.”

Gimli 13, Legolas 11.

Legolas chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, but quickly sobered, “Gimli? Can I ask you a question that… I dare not ask others?”

“Course you can. What are forbidden friendships for?”

“One that you might take offense to?”

Gimli tugged his breeches up and gave Legolas a wary glance, “Go on with you. You’ll just sit on it for ages if you don’t ask. Literal ages.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Does it… feel good?”

“Eh?”

“What you said… our disagreement,” Legolas blushed up to the tips of his ears.

“Ah,” Gimli nodded, “Yer asking about safe lancing.”

Gimli took so long to reply that Legolas had assumed he would not answer and turned away to watch the sunset. Then he heard Gimli stomp over before settling down on the ground beside where Legolas perched with legs crossed. He’d merely finished dressing first. He looked so much thinner without layers of armour on him. Thin and muscular, though he did have a fair amount of soft flesh on his belly.

“It’s beautiful,” Gimli sighed.

“The sunset?” Legolas smirked.

“Hm? Aye. The sunset, but I was speaking of pleasures of the flesh. Listen, it’s hard to explain. It’s something some men and women like, and some don’t. It usually burns the first few times, but then… well, if it’s done right it can feel damn good. To… ah… both parties.”

“What about…” Legolas sighed, pulling up the parts of his mind that had spent time in Mirkwood and with this fine Dwarf, “What about excrement?”

Gimli shrugged, “It happens. So do rude noises. Still feels great. If you can laugh about it- which you Elves can’t, apparently- it just adds to the fun.”

“ _Safe_ lancing?” Legolas asked, his mouth quirking in a smile.

“Because women can’t get pregnant that way,” Gimli grunted, “Men and Dwarrow alike use it to avoid having another bun in the oven soon after the first. Women need time to heal and men to get some bloody sleep again.”

“Children are rare and cherished amongst my kind,” Legolas replied, “We are always hopeful for the next one. Sex is only used for procreation.”

“Yet you lot are so _calm_ ,” Gimli shook his head, “I’m as tense as one of your bowstrings after a while away from soft flesh. I suppose you lot take it into your own hands?”

“Take… what? Oh!” Legolas’ eyes widened and he shifted uncomfortably, “That. Yes, well. I’d be lying if I said we _never_ did it,” Gimli made an derisive sound, “Except it’s usually something only the very young do. Those in their first few centuries can be forgiven their lack of restraint.”

“Lack of restraint,” Gimli repeated, shaking his head, “For people who spend time on art and music I’d think you’d relish the beauty of sensual pleasure.”

“I suppose it’s meant to make sure we reproduce,” Legolas replied, “A man who sates himself alone isn’t contributing to our people and, just as someone who refused to utilize their artistic ability, would be considered selfish. Sadly this shaming has gone so far that even married couples have difficulty offering themselves to their spouses from what I’ve heard whispered by those deep in their cup. It is a bit out of control, I suppose.”

“Hm,” Gimli considered, “I guess a demonstration would be offensive to ye then.”

“Demonstration?” Legolas asked, shifting closer curiously, “You would… demonstrate… what exactly?”

“Well, I’ve my own copy of the gift I gave you days ago,” Gimli winked, “I’ve not put it to use yet and all this talk has made me a bit randy.”

“You would use it on yourself?” Legolas asked, not willing to participate further than watching.

“Aye,” Gimli nodded, “In fact, I will. If you’re so offended you can take yourself off!”

So saying with a wide grin, Gimli stood and hurried to his pack while Legolas licked his lips and tried to consider what to do.

“I suppose,” Legolas thought out loud, “I suppose if we are to unite our people it would benefit us if we learned of your lack of restraint. We could benefit from it even. Think of all the children born if we developed your lust for the flesh!”

“Oh, aye,” Gimli rolled his eyes, “We’re doing this for the children. Sure.”

Gimli sought through his pack and pulled out his sleeping roll, his buttplug, and a jar of oil that Legolas had wondered about when they’d left as it wasn’t the sort for cooking. Gimli spread out the sleeping roll, humming happily to himself, stripped his clothes back off, and dropped down on the ground.

“That tree will dig its roots in your back,” Legolas teased.

“Aye, but I need it for support,” Gimli replied, planting one foot on the tree so he could reach his pucker without his leg tiring.

Legolas moved closer curiously and knelt a bit off to one side where he could look at both Gimli’s face and his arse. Gimli poured oil over the polished wooden surface. His plug was squat and wide, whereas the one he’d given Legolas was far thinner and longer.

“Why the odd shape?”

“Ye’ll see,” He chuckled, his cock already interested in the proceedings.

Gimli lined the toy up with his pucker and rubbed it around in circles, waiting for his body to relax into the invasion to come. While he did so he stroked his shaft a few times and toyed with the foreskin covering his cockhead.

“Gimli, I worry that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. I thought perhaps Dwarrow had larger rectums than Elves, but…”

“Hush, lad,” Gimli grumbled, “You’re throwing me off. Sing if you must make noise, but don’t chatter at me.”

Legolas set up a low hum, tuneless but still managing to be melodic, watching in awe as Gimli began to work the tip of the toy into his body. It was soon pressing in deeper until his body simply swallowed it! Gimli moaned softly, shifting and adjusting his feet. His cock was half-hard and thickening at a fast pace. Could this really feel pleasurable?

“Ohhhh,” Gimli moaned, beginning to shift the toy a bit. He pulled it out, testing the burn, and pressed it deeply in again at an angle as he sought out his pleasure spot. It took a few more thrusts and then he gasped as pleasure swirled through him.

“Are you in pain?” Legolas whispered, his voice quite taken at the sight. Gimli was sweating already, his hand tucked beneath his thigh to tug apart his plush bottom. His other leg eagerly spread wide now that he’d found a rhythm. His hair was dark and thick on his bollocks while his pucker winked pale and pink as it wrapped around the toy.

“Not… pain…” Gimli planted, “Mmm, so good!”

Gimli’s wrist sped up, pressing the toy deeply inside of himself before pulling it halfway out. He was griding it against the spot inside of him that brought spots of light to the back of his eyes. A glimpse from beneath his lids showed Legolas flushed and hard where he knelt near his left foot, alternating between watching the toy vanish into his body and his face as he panted in desire. As he stole his furtive glance Legolas licked his lips and shifted, clearly tense from his ardour but unwilling to touch himself or even acknowledge it.

“Legolas,” Gimli gasped, “Damn the rules. Enjoy yourself. Go on.”

“I… the shame is too great. You know not what I’ve lived with these many centuries,” Legolas shook his head, moving both arms in front of the bulge in his hose to hide his arousal. He only looked more beautiful posed such.

Gimli could feel himself fast approaching his peak, his body too long denied pleasure of any sort, even at his own hands, between war and exhaustion after the fact. Now to be so studied by the one he desired more than the glittering caves they were headed to…

Gimli’s eyes clenched shut as pleasure spiralled fast through his loins. He felt his tight orbs draw up against his body, the coil in his belly tightened. He was going to come with his cock untouched! Such a rare pleasure, and he _wanted_ it so desperately. He pried his eyes open so he could see the shock on Legolas’ face to know that such a thing was possible with the act he was performing now. A few more flicks of his wrists and he was roaring out a climax that left his beard speckled with white release. 

Legolas let out a soft sound of shock and near agonized pleasure, his eyes were wide as saucers and he shivered as his desire turned nearly painful with want of relief. His cheeks were flushed a beautiful coral over the pearly white skin. His hair blew gently in the spring breeze as if tendrils of weather would caress his flesh where he denied lovers and his own hand. His lips were parted in a silent _O_ as if he would at any moment surrender in words if not deed. Still he didn’t reach for himself. Instead he pressed his lips together and gave Gimli such a jealous glance before looking carefully away. Legolas turned his back, wrapping arms around his knees and drawing his thighs up painfully against his body.

“I’m sure you wish to wash again. I’ll wait for my bath.”

Gimli lay panting and trying to get his body back under his control. His thighs trembled and his arm was cramped from the awkward angle. A pillow- or a lover’s lap- would have been appreciated to support his hips. He usually preferred those who watched him participate in some way, at least by letting him rest his legs on their shoulders.

Gimli struggled upright; his body letting him know it had enjoyed the stretch. Legolas stiffened in obvious revulsion.

“Just wind, lad,” Gimli chuckled, “It’s nothing your body wouldn’t do either, above me though you are with your pretty ways.”

“I… I do not think myself above you,” Legolas said carefully, “I’m merely…”

“More refined?” Gimli suggested, hoisting himself into his bath once again, though without the aid of his prudish friend this time. It had gone cold, but he’d be fast about his washing. He grabbed the branch above and pulled himself back out a few minutes later. Legolas had still not replied, “You alright?”

“I’m… alarmed. I’ve never responded so ardently to another.”

“It’s hard to believe that someone centuries older than I- someone who has actively called me a _child_ \- is a blushing virgin!” Gimli chuckled, “But I suppose in your culture that is a compliment, eh?”

“Is it not in yours? As it turns out, I am neither virgin nor blushing. My face was flushed with desire. Desire that I _should not_ feel. You are my friend and I shame your trust in me.”

“There’s no shame in lusting after a friend,” Gimli replied, “My first lovers were those who fought by my side in training. Sweet tasted their sweat as we bathed up after swinging an axe for something other than firewood for the first time. The memories of their bodies will forever sooth me to sleep. Such is my love for them still, though most have married or passed through the mortal veil.”

“Then your heart has been broken many times?”

Gimli chuckled, “A time or two, but those I just mentioned are still dear to my heart. We knew we weren’t going to spend our dying days together except as good friends smoking pipes by the fireplace. Our love stays though it has become a small warm thing more likened to a good dream or memory. We’ll never touch again, but the recollection is there when our eyes meet. I would kill or die for any of them and they for me.”

“Your connection stays. That is beautiful,” Legolas smiled softly, finally calm enough to turn and face him.

Legolas set about getting the fire stoked while Gimli dumped the old water and went to fetch some more. He hung the sack once more with Legolas’ help and then sat by the fire to relax for a smoke while the water heated. Legolas unpacked some food and set it to cook while Gimli dumped the fresh hot water into the sack for Legolas. He stripped down and slipped into the water with a happy sigh.

“Warm water! I’ve never loved it so much!” Legolas sighed.

Gimli chuckled and walked over to him, “Try my pipe with it.”

“Oh?” Legolas smiled, leaning forward and clasping his hand to take a deep puff, “Ahhh, that is nice. Do you often smoke while bathing? We usually bathe in streams and then warm in steam rooms.”

“Steam rooms!” Gimli declared, “Now there is something our people have in common!”

They spent the evening discussing their various bathing traits, laughing about the differences or studying them curiously. When they curled into their sleeping rolls that night, one sitting up to keep watch while the other slept, Legolas found the night difficult to relax into as desire that had awoken in him continued to tighten his loins.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Such beauty!” Gimli cried out, staring around him in bliss.

The lantern reflected off of the gems around him as the Glittering Caverns lived up to their names. Even Legolas had to admit that the place was gorgeous. Then Gimli rushed to a corner and took out a small hammer.

“I’ll never understand you Dwarrow,” Legolas sighed, “Such beauty yet you can not be content with it.”

“Humph!” Gimli replied with an annoyed glance, “And I suppose the trees in Lothlorien grew that way of their own accord? Remember I intend to make a fine hall of this room. This will be the receiving room, where all those who visit our halls will be met by myself or my kin.”

“You will truly make this your home?” Legolas trembled in the cold damp cavern, though he acknowledged Gimli’s point with a nod.

“It will be warm and comfortable in time,” Gimli replied, “Come closer and I’ll build a fire for you my friend.”

Legolas smiled softly as Gimli collected rocks scattered about to repair a fire pit someone had already started some months ago. They knelt beside it as he lit a fire and it was soon crackling warmly. Legolas smiled at the cheer. He did not feel the cold as mortals did, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t long for warmth. The sun was preferable to a fire, but it would do for now. Gimli wandered off in search of more shiny things to sate his Dwarrow heart, and Legolas settled down to hum to himself. Soon he was singing softly without really paying attention to what words were wandering from his lips.

“Was that ‘chest’ I heard you say?” Gimli asked.

“Hm?” Legolas glanced up.

“I thought I heard you say ‘burnished chest’. As in a treasure chest?”

Legolas laughed to cover his discomfort, “How you turn everything into gold and jewels!”

“What other chest is burnished?” Gimli scoffed.

Legolas felt his ears heat up. _Yours._

“I was singing nonsense, my friend. As a bored Elf is want.”

“Come and help me if you’re bored. Unless you’re afraid you’ll chip a nail.”

“Ha!” Legolas replied, standing and heading over with a grin on his face, “Show me what to do.”

“Take these pretty stones and wash them for me,” Gimli told him, holding out a mess of quartz and a few rubies. They were quite grimy, “There’s an underwater cavern that way. Just go straight and ignore the off passages. Watch your step.”

“I can handle myself around water, Gimli,” Legolas laughed, “Or have you forgotten the boatride?”

“How could I?” He groaned, “I still dream I’m on it at times! Such awful nightmares are unfit for a grown Dwarf!”

Legolas laughed merrily and took his muddy haul to the next cavern over, holding the lantern aloft for light. A vast underwater lake stretched out before him and he shivered in revulsion. As an Elf Legolas knew to cherish all life, but his mind couldn’t help but turn to the horror that was Gollum and the fact he’d lived in a similar cave. What cold, unseeing things lived here?

Legolas held the lantern aloft and scanned the area before him for a ‘beach’ to kneel at to wash Gimli’s stones. Though he didn’t imagine he’d slip easily with his Elven tread it didn’t hurt not to tempt fate. The area was rather steep in most spots, but far off to his right was a gentle slope that led to the water. Legolas walked towards the gentle slope, stepping easily over a rope that blocked his path. He was nearly to the shore when he heard a horrified cry behind him. Legolas turned in concern but Gimli’s raised hands stopped him from running forward.

“Don’t move,” He said softly, his voice tinged with panic, “Don’t move a muscle.”

“Gimli?” Legolas asked in concern, staying completely still despite the crawling feeling at the back of his neck that demanded he move and see what alarmed his friend so much.

Gimli was inching forward slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he slid his feet forward, turned to the side to move as if on a narrow ledge rather than a strait, smooth slope. Legolas felt fear curl in his belly. Whatever was going on was clearly quite risky, but he was unable to fathom what caused Gimli’s fear and worry.

Gimli reached the rope that Legolas had passed and gave it a careful tug, pulling over the stick stands that held it up. He coiled it around his hand, brushing the stands aside, and fashioned a noose.

“I’m going to throw this to you. Wrap it around your torso.”

“Gimli, what’s going on? Where is the danger? I hear nothing.”

“Don’t you _feel_ it?” Gimli asked, holding the rope aloft and twirling it to get distance going, “Dwarves have a reason for preferring their feet on solid ground… and there was a reason for this rope. Fool of an Elf!”

Legolas easily caught the rope but fumbled his handful of stones. He ignored them and Gimli seemed unconcerned. Instead he slipped the rope around his torso like a sling and tightened it a bit. Gimli gave it a subtle tug.

“Move as you saw me. Slide your feet slowly and carefully.”

Legolas obeyed, sliding his feet along the smooth stone as Gimli moved carefully backwards. Suddenly the Dwarf’s eyes widened in horror and he gave a hard tug on the rope, intending on pulling Legolas to him despite risk of broken ribs. Legolas staggered forward just as the ground beneath him began to crumble, but the old damp rope snapped before it could complete its mission. Legolas let out a sorrowful cry as Gimli bolted forward, grabbed Legolas’ arm, and threw him bodily towards safety with a quick twist of his small torso. Legolas barely made it to the safer rock, scrambling as the ground crumbled beneath him. When he turned he saw a jagged hole filling quickly with water where his friend had once been.

“Gimli!” Legolas cried out, scrambling forward. The ground crumbled further and he quickly retreated, casting about for more rope or some sign of his companion.

Gimli surfaced, sputtering frantically as he splashed about wildly. He was unencumbered by armour but he still had poor swimming skills, so he was helpless in the water. Legolas stretched out flat on the rocks, arms extended to reach for his friend. As the water level rose he came into reach but his eyes were wide with panic.

“Take my hand! Gimli, I will pull you clear!”

The water rushed about him, spinning Gimli like a top as it swirled ever faster into the new sinkhole. Their hands brushed once, then Gimli went under. He floundered back up and Legolas managed to grasp onto his beard and pull him forward. He was too grateful to even shout. Hands grasped his arm and Legolas wriggled backwards as he pulled his friend to safety. The rock crumbled beneath Gimli’s belly at first, but as they slowly worked their way along the surface they were soon able to tug him fully out of the water. They continued to crawl, Legolas refusing to release Gimli’s wrist until the Dwarf whispered that it was safe. Only then did he let go and slowly sit up to stare at the wreck of the ‘shore’. Gimli climbed further forward and sagged against the wall Legolas was pressed against.

“Did you not feel the ground beneath your feet?” Gimli asked, shaking his head as he wrung his beard out.

“I did,” Legolas replied, “Which is why I thought it safe to tread upon!”

“It was _weak_ , Legolas. That was why the Men marked it off.”

“I couldn’t tell,” He replied, shaking his head, “I thought the rope merely litter as they often spread such waste about. The water still moves,” Legolas whispered, “Will it drain away? I’ve destroyed your home and endangered your life!”

“Calm,” Gimli replied, putting a hand on his thigh without thinking, “The water will fill the cavern below. If we’re lucky we’ll have a better beach instead. Perhaps I’ll create a sort of basket for that huge hole when I reinforce the area around it, something that can be raised and lowered easily.”

“You make so much of so little,” Legolas replied, reaching out to help him get himself in order.

“You see so little in so much,” Gimli chuckled, “I suppose it’s the same way I see too much when I stare at a forest.”

Legolas smiled, “Perhaps in time a Dwarf can teach an Elf to see in the dark.”

Gimli echoed his smile, tilting his head fondly, “And an Elf teach a Dwarf to climb trees!”

They both laughed and Legolas hugged him tightly. Then the fear of the moment caught up with him. Gimli was mortal. His life was short. In a century or two he would wither and die, leaving Legolas without his strange and wonderful company. Yet because of Legolas’ inability to sense the stone today he had nearly died before his time!

Legolas’ grip tightened on Gimli, gripping his waist, and he pulled him into his lap.

“What are ye…?” Gimli stammered, startled to find himself straddling Legolas’ lap.

Legolas wrapped his arms tightly around his companion, pressing his face into his damp but comforting beard. He bent his legs a bit and rocked back and forth, clutching his friend tightly as the loss he’d nearly suffered sank in.

“Yer trembling, lad!” Gimli stated in surprise, “And I’ll soak ye through like this. Legolas, what is this?”

“I nearly killed you.”

“It was…” Gimli stammered, trying to pry himself free.

“Hush!” Legolas scolded, “Let me have this moment. You live such a short time! A mountain compared to a tree, are we! With our roles reversed!”

“You are the mountain and I the tree?” Gimli chuckled to cover his discomfort at finding himself in a warm, long limbed lap. He was becoming hard and knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long, “What a poetic and sad truth. Despite the fact that I dwell in the mountains and you the trees, you will last as the mountain while I wither into a dried husk. Will you write a song of it?”

“Not yet,” Legolas replied, clutching him closer, “Not until long, long after you have left me. Not until I have used up all my tears and am ready to mourn you with words.”

“Legolas, love!” Gimli spoke without thinking, his heart breaking at the sorrowful words, “I’m alive and young now! Mourn me later! Not today!”           

Legolas lifted his face and Gimli pressed their lips together, his cold to Legolas’ warmth, tangling his fingers in fair silken hair. Legolas gasped and his tongue moved in frantically, his mind convinced he would be pushed away at any moment. He pressed Legolas firmly against he rocky wall, determined to take all he could before he was cast aside. Legolas’ hands flew up to run across his clothed arms, a soft moan vibrating their lips as his tongue cautiously stroked Gimli’s.

Gimli groaned throatily, hands moving down Legolas’ body to stroke along slim sides and fondle sharp hipbones. He wanted those legs around his body while he buried himself deep inside the gorgeous man, imagining his mouth falling open in desire, his cheeks coral as he had been while Gimli had pleasured himself. He rolled his hips against Legolas’ body and felt an answering hardness. Legolas bucked in desire, his body sensitive to the point of starved as he scrambled to grab hold of as much of Gimli as he could. His hands flew over him, touching his arse only to shy away just short of gripping his full bottom. Gimli moaned, deciding he could happily bottom as well… or enjoy those long digits clawing him as his red-furred bollocks slapped against Legolas’ soft blonde ones.

Then the Elf turned into a frightened eel and wiggled out of his arms so fast and so smoothly that the Dwarf was left panting on his knees staring at his empty hands as if he’d just lost everything he owned in a sure bet. Legolas scrambled for the tunnel that led to the fire pit and Gimli stared after him, hard and panting with want. He did all he could to put himself into order but Legolas had left him aching in a way he was unfamiliar with. Sure, he’d been rejected before but there had always been someone else he could turn to. A friend who was happy to toss him off and then buy him a pint. Now his only friend was the one who he simply couldn’t have. He took a few deep breaths, reminded himself that it _wasn’t_ safe to soak in the cold water nearby, and then headed to the cave to face his flustered friend.

Legolas was determined to pretend nothing had happened. They went along that way for the rest of the day and then settled down into sleeping rolls. On the other side of the fire Legolas could hear the swish of flesh sliding against flesh and the soft huffs of breath that signalled the Dwarf approaching climax. He shivered as his own awakened body called out for touch, but he feared the desires that rolled through him. It was one thing to indulge in pleasure, but to do so with a Dwarf? His father would never stand for _that_ sort of uniting of their people! He recalled a song he had heard once of two female Elves who had fallen desperately in love, but it had ended in such sorrow. So would any love he felt for Gimli. Already he couldn’t stand the thought of his mortal friend passing through the veil, it would destroy him if he were to allow such feelings to sweep him up in the current of their friendship.

Legolas rolled onto his stomach and let the hardness of the floor press against his clothed erection. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Nearby Gimli was panting, his hand flying faster over his shaft.

“We have a saying amongst our kind,” Gimli’s voice whispered so softly Legolas wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it. Perhaps it was part of some fantasy he used to get himself closer to release, “What happens in the darkest caves even the Elves cannot see.”

Legolas rolled over, his hands struggling with restrictive clothing, and took his aching shaft into hand for the first time in over a century. He gasped as pleasure raced up his spine. Nearby he heard Gimli groan, but his hand slowed rather than continue its pace. Legolas was quickly a panting mess, his free hand fondling his bollocks as he did all he could to silence the cries that tried to crawl up his throat. His back was bent, arching off the sleep roll until he was pressed against the upper side as if it were a secret lover. His hand moved faster and he reached a spit-slicked digit down, curious to feel what Gimli had. He had to drop his hips and spread his legs, but in his mind he did so with dark eyes dancing with desire as they watched him splay himself like a woman. Legolas whimpered then bit his lip, stopping himself from making such wanton sounds. Instead he tossed his head from side to side as his finger traced patterns of fire over an area he’d never known could feel pleasure. He dared not penetrate himself, but the wish was there. He shivered as hot shame spilled over his hand.

Gimli grunted and then let out a long, low moan that had Legolas’ toes curling. There was silence then as both basked in the afterglow- Gimli in clear relaxation while Legolas stewed in remorse.

_This can never be. If I chose a mortal life as Arwen did I would forever resent him for the years taken from me and the unanswered cry of the gulls. Yet I could never bring him to my people and the distant shores of Undying Lands. I must burn out this fever dream and put it forever behind me, but how? Do I let myself fall into his arms, indulging in pleasure until I have sated this urge? Or do I break our agreement and leave now while my heart is still intact? If I used him harshly he would die hating me, yet if I left him I would live forever not knowing what I had left behind. He has but a short time on Middle Earth. Is this what mortals feel? The fear of tomorrow passing before they can enjoy today?_

Legolas stood slowly, cleaning his shame from his body in silence. Gimli stood to do the same, his eyes seeking Legolas’ in the dim firelight. For once the Elf didn’t avoid the longing stare directed his way.

“Gimli,” Legolas whispered, “I must warn you. If we continue like this I will fall into your arms.”

“I wish for nothing less.”

“Yet you wish for more,” Legolas replied softly, “I can not give it you. I will not choose a mortal life. The gulls have already cried for me. My path is set. I will sail to the East and leave this world forever.”

“Can you not do so after my time here as ended?” Gimli asked, his voice filled with sorrow as they both redressed, “You say often that I have such a short life compared to…”

“You would wish me heartbreak more than I will already feel? I would resent you forever, Gimli. Is that what you wish?”

“No,” Gimli replied sadly, “No I would have your friendship over such a fate. Forgive me. I thought not of your heart as I have always thought it as flawless and unbreakable as your immortal life.”

“I can die, Gimli, and my heart can break,” Legolas reminded gently, “Elves will live forever in the Undying Lands, but here we can be cut down just as our trees too often are.”

Gimli sighed sadly, shaking his head and adding a log to the fire, “I’ve really muddied the waters, haven’t I? Do ye know my people don’t find Elves to be beautiful?”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Legolas smiled softly, “We are foreign looking to you.”

“I must seem like an animal to you, covered in hair as I am.”

“No,” Legolas replied with a laugh, “Not an animal. Perhaps a very fair Orc. And what of us? What do your kind compare us to?”

Gimli chuckled, “Stretched out birds and hairless deer.”

They both shared a comfortable laugh together, shaking their heads in amusement at their people’s differences. Gimli sobered quickly, his eyes turning sorrowful.

“So why is it that you consume my every thought?” The Dwarf asked sadly.

“Sometimes that which is foreign can seem exotic,” Legolas replied, “And therefore something to desire. If I am a jewel in your caves you might covet me, as I would covet a medicinal herb in mine no matter how unattractive the bloom.”

“I am a balm to you, then?” Gimli chuckled.

“A warm beam of sunlight to my soul, Gimli. I cherish your friendship and would not lose it to bittersweet caresses that must end once we leave these caves.”

“Why once we leave here?” Gimli asked.

“As you pointed out, the Elves can not see what happens here.”

“Then we have some small amount of time to…”

“No, Gimli,” Legolas sighed, “For I can see all too well. I was weak earlier. I must harden my heart to this or lose it.”

“You are adamant that this can not be? Not even for one night?”

“I would not trust myself to stop what had begun,” Legolas replied, “I treasure you, Gimli. As I do the smell of salt on the air.”

“And I you as a Dwarf covets gold,” Gimli sighed, “Then we return to slumber- or whatever passes for it with you Elves- and let ourselves remember yesterday and tonight as a pleasant dream.”

Legolas’ response was a soft kiss to Gimli’s cheek before quickly returning to his sleep roll. He lay beneath the blankets and let himself finally drift into reverie.

They stayed many more days in the caves before Legolas could take no more dark caverns and damp, hard floors. Without another word he simply turned and fled, making it most of the way back before he lost his way. Gimli found him studying his hands in the dim light of a dying lantern.

“My kind can’t survive like this, Gimli,” Legolas told him, “I fear I will fade away or turn into an Orc. I swear the process has already begun. Thoughts of Gollum haunt me.”

“No such fate could become of you,” Gimli replied, stopping himself from reaching out to stroke his hair, “I wouldn’t let it. Come, I’ll have you in the sun in an hour, Greenleaf.”

Legolas gave him a small smile, “I am sorry to cut our time here short. The cave seems to swallow me down.”

“I imagine I’ll have the same feeling in Fangorn.”

“In such a beautiful and mystical place! Ah, how could you?”

Gimli chuckled and shook his head in amusement, “Elves!”


	4. Chapter 4

Fangorn seemed to press down upon Gimli. He found it hard to breath and wished fervently for a cool breeze.

“This makes me think of the trek my cousins and uncle took through Mirkwood,” Gimli muttered, daring to step into worrisome territory, “They said the woods seemed to threaten them from all sides.”

“Well it would with the enchantments put on such a place specifically to keep _Dwarrow_ out. Not to mention those troublesome spiders. We’ve not got rid of them all, I’ll warrant.”

“Perhaps Bilbo could stop by on his travels and give you a hand,” Gimli teased to Legolas’ amusement, “But in all seriousness, perhaps we could make our camp on the outskirts?”

“Not fair, Gimli! We went deep into your caves for days on end! If we camp on the edge of the forest we’ll never see anything new!”

Gimli groaned in misery but had to acknowledge that Legolas was correct. They would have to camp _in_ the forest. Legolas was clearly winning this round, by several points so far.

“What of the trees?” He asked, “We can not go about cutting down firewood.”

“We’ll gather what is discarded,” Legolas replied, starting at that moment to gather some and dropping the smaller bits into his ever-present quiver.

Gimli groaned and started gathering.

On the first day he’d talked loudly to take up the silence. On the third he was feeling too oppressed to do so, so he asked Legolas to sing for him. It wasn’t until the third day that they met an Ent and by then Gimli was anxious to the point of desperation. He hadn’t said a word to Legolas in nearly two days, though the Elf was too caught up in the forest to notice, but once he saw the Ent he recalled their speed and rushed towards him frantically.

“Out! Get me _out!_ ”

Sadly, the Ent wasn’t one he had spoken to on their last short visit, and so was rather surprised by the sight of a Dwarf running towards him with an axe on his back. The great thing reacted instinctively and kicked Gimli, punting him across the forest some good six yards before he hit the ground and rolled for a bit until hitting a tree.

“Gimli!” Legolas shouted.

The alarmed Ent, now aware that the axe-bearer was accompanied by a gentle Elf, was slowly uttering a very formal apology. Legolas was at Gimli’s side in an instant checking him for injuries.

“My bloody ribs are broken!” He wheezed.

“Not broken,” Legolas smiled, having untucked his shirt and gently prodded his side, “Just bruised. You Dwarrow are hearty creatures to survive a kick from an Ent!”

“If you call this surviving,” Gimli replied, going limp in Legolas’ arms when he tried to sit him up, “Now I’ll never leave this accursed place!”

The Ent was still slowly apologizing, but they paid him no mind. Legolas was trying not to laugh at his melodramatic friend.

“I suppose you’ve had as much as you can take of Fangorn?” Legolas asked.

“And then some,” Gimli replied, “I’ll never mock your aversion to caves again!”

“Fair enough,” Legolas nodded, “Nor I demand you take such an arduous trip again.”

Gimli stilled, his amusement and pain vanishing in the face of a sudden notion.

“Then this is it,” Gimli stated in horror, “We said we would do these two things, but we could never decide on another. If neither of us can tolerate the homes of the other…”

Legolas’ face reflected Gimli’s own, “We must part.”

“Or head for the halls of men, but I for one have had enough of them,” Gimli replied, trying to get the playfulness back.

Legolas nodded silently, his face still sad, “Let me ask our new friend to transport us so you don’t have to stay here any longer than necessary.”

Legolas bound Gimli’s ribs, cherishing the brief chaste touch of his flesh. The hair along his torso turned out to be surprisingly soft. Just to continue the caresses he took the moment to put a marriage braid into Gimli’s hair, telling himself there was no harm in it since the Dwarf wouldn’t know what it meant. If his heart ached to see the red plaits he had no one to blame but himself.

Finally they requested the ride out from the Ent who was only too happy to help them. Once they reached the forest edge- it took less than an hour- Gimli declared himself unfit for travel and mock-swooned onto the ground. He was feeling much better now that he was out of the forest, playful and in want of the Elf’s company, so they took up a camp on the edge. Their tent was a comfort when the skies opened up on them hours later, and they ended up staying for three days while Gimli healed and Legolas clung to the time together. When they finally couldn’t put the time off any longer they packed up and gave each other a gentle hug, swearing they would write (in the language of the men of Dale since they both knew it well) and setting off with only subtle glances over their shoulders as they parted for they knew not how many years.


	5. Chapter 5

_Gimli,_

_My dearest friend, I have so much work ahead to heal this land that it saddens my heart to know it keeps me from the distant shores I long for. Yet it also means that I will be remaining here on Middle Earth for longer than I had expected and will get to see you for many more years. I have heard that you have created your home in the Glittering Caves living side-by-side with Men. My father has agreed to trade with you on the basis that we have travelled and fought together… and the Men have been our allies before. I hope to see you when we journey to discuss this matter. Expect us mid-summer and be on your best behaviour. My father is not the charming prince I am._

_Your friend,_

_Legolas Greenleaf_

_Legolas,_

_Hearty greetings my Elven friend! Our trade agreement goes so well that I fear for your kinsmen’s hatred of my people. Soon they will have to struggle to remember why they whisper such foul names at us when they think we can’t hear them! I hope you saved some of those pretty baubles I gave you for yourself as I suggested. The topaz reminds me of your eyes._

_Gimli Son of Gloin_

_Gimli,_

_My dear friend, I kept them because you told me a good dozen times that they reminded you thus. Is your mind slipping already? I had not thought a mere few years could leave a dwarf so feebleminded._

_Nay, ignore my teasing. It is from a deep pain in my heart. Somehow I expected to find you old and grey despite the short time that has passed. It was far too good to see you after all these years. Never is there a time when the winds travel from the south that I do not think of you. Sometimes I regret my words in the cave, but then I recall that you have an heir to bring into the world._

_Legolas Greenleaf_

_Legolas,_

_How fortunate that you reminded me of my duties. Indeed I’ve been so busy courting jewels and peace agreements that I haven’t had time to court Durin’s fine folk! I have selected a maiden amongst my people, a lass I have known since we were but tiny pebbles, and she has agreed to bare me an heir and a spare. Her only stipulation was that she ends at two, so if I get two girls I shall have to swallow my pride. I told her I had a plan in motion for that and showed her a sketch Aragorn sent me of his son. She slugged me but it was worth the bruise to see her rage at me as if we were young again!_

_I miss you, Legolas. Do not wait so long before your next visit. I have not your time._

_Gimli Son of Gloin_

_Legolas,_

_You weren’t at the last trade meeting and your father was a berk when I asked after you. Write to me again. Your last letter was lost somehow. Merda is pregnant with sprog number one and I wish to bemoan my lost youth with someone older than I._

_Gimli Son of Gloin_

_Legolas,_

_None of your letters have reached me. I am sending this one to you in triplicate by different carriers in the hopes one will reach you. Respond to me or I will fear the worst and come to Mirkwood looking for you._

_Gimli Son of Gloin_

_Legolas,_

_Your father turned me away at the gates with a rather scornful reminder that my kinsmen have already paid visit to his halls. He threatened to annul our trade agreements if I did not leave. Despite the burden it would put on my people I almost allowed it, but he must have seen that a Dwarf is as stubborn as a mountain is still and relented. He tells me you are obsessed with providing aid to those who suffered during the war. Your heart is in the right place, but you must take time for yourself! I know you read these letters as your father reported as much so I will continue to send them._

_My first child is a girl, and she is more beautiful than… well, I am entitled to find her more beautiful than an Elf. Father’s do that sort of thing, I’m told. I have enclosed a sketch of her. Excuse the crudeness as I am not the artist you are._

_Please take care, my dearest friend. I will try not to begrudge you your silence too much._

_Gimli Son of Gloin_

_Legolas,_

_My heart grows melancholy. Merda has born me my second child, a strong son, but with the fulfilment of her agreement to me I feel a loneliness descend upon me. I miss your friendship and I feel cheated. You turned your heart away from me to keep our friendship whole, but what has become of our camaraderie now? Gone you are from my life, refusing to see me or deigning to send me a simple letter! I lose my patience, Master Elf. Come and see me, dandle my children on your knee, eat at my table, and plait my hair again. If you do not show yourself by the time the leaves fall on Helm’s Deep I shall count you a friend no more._

_Gimli Son of Gloin,_  
Lord of the Glittering Caves  
Master of Helm’s Deep

_Gimli,_

_I write to you with joyful tidings. I have in these last many years devoted every waking moment to cleansing Mirkwood and the surrounding area of the foulness of Sauron. My task is complete. As I write this letter I stare down at a likeness I have made of you that I will keep with me always. I shall miss you more than words could say and regret that this will reach you long after I have set sail for the Undying Lands._

_Peace, my former friend. I go to a better place and your attention belongs on your family. Kiss your wife and children for me, for I would wish them glad tidings. Middle Earth is almost good enough for them now._

_Legolas Greenleaf_

_Deceitful Elf,_

_I hope for the sake of your hide that was a joke, Legolas! Twelve years! Twelve years I hear nothing and then you vanish from the mortal world?! I call you to my side! As my friend! As my companion! As a member of the Fellowship! As my almost-lover! I demand you return to my side or I will follow you into the waters! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!_

_Gimli Son of Gloin,_  
Lord of the Glittering Caves  
Master of Helm’s Deep  
Your Executioner

_Gimli Gloin’s Son,_

_I write you this day to inform you that your letter reached my royal person rather than that of someone you refer to as ‘Deceitful Elf’. I have in my possession several other letters that also reached me instead of your intended, though those are addressed to an elf named ‘Legolas’. I fear you have been played some cruel prank, as there has never been an elf named Legolas in all of Mirkwood. I hope you will forgive whoever has wronged you and accept this crate of fine wine as recompense for your troubles. Consider it a gift in remembrance of our dear friendship and alliance._

_Thranduil Elvenking,  
King of the Woodland Realms_

_King Thranduil Elvenking,_

_Health and good tidings to you, Your Majesty. I have sent you back your wine as your last batch was clearly laced with Dream Mushrooms. Only such a catastrophic, and frankly ridiculous, accident could cause you to write that your SON never existed. If this is some mad way of mourning those who head to Valor I suggest you drop the pretence and speak to me clearly, knowing full well that as a Dwarrow I have no knowledge of your customs._

_Gimli Son of Gloin,_  
Lord of the Glittering Caves,  
Master of Helm’s Deep

_Gimli Gloin’s Son,_

_I assure you this is no pretence nor have we reached a cultural impasse. I have no recollection of the individual of whom you speak. I have many daughters but no son. I have not been blessed as you have. If you are disconcerted by this news you are welcome to visit Greenleaf and see for yourself. None here have knowledge of this mysterious person._

_Thranduil Elvenking,  
King of the Woodland Realms_

_Gandalf,_

_Something is amiss. I have been to Mirkwood and the elves there claim that Legolas has never been! I need your counsel. My heart is heavy with this strange deceit._

_Gimli Son of Gloin_

_Gimli Gloin’s Son:_

_I have found the results to be the same when I ventured near any Elven establishment. In Lothlorien they have torn down his statue and claim it never was. A fountain has mysteriously taken its place. I consulted Aragorn and Arwen. The former was confused and alarmed while the latter also claimed amnesia but with far less convincing acting. I have no advice at this point but I will seek out our friend as I see no evidence at Mirkwood that he ever left for the Undying Lands. I will send his things with the next carrier as I found them gathering dust in a room no one would admit existed in his father’s halls._

_Gandalf The White_

Gandalf rode up to the gates of Helm’s Deep on Shadowfax without hesitation despite the late hour. He knew he would be well received, and sure enough a shout went up so fast he barely had to reign in his steed before the gates were lowered and he entered the first section. A pause here, and the gate behind him shut before the second was opened. He dismounted once inside but Shadowfax would let none handle him save Gandalf so he saw him to the stable himself. Gimli was so eager for news he met him there.

“Gandalf!” Gimli shouted, walking into the darkened stables with a purposeful stride, “What news of… _Legolas!_ ”

Legolas slid off of the back of Shadowfax, but all rage on the Dwarf’s part vanished at the sight of his wilted friend. Legolas was thin, clearly starvation had overwhelmed him, and his hair had been cut short places as if someone had removed the braids alone. His skin was sickly pale, almost blue, and his lips held no colour. His eyes were the worst of all. They no longer danced with an inner light that even a darkened cavern couldn’t quell. They were cold glass reflecting at him. Had he not drawn breath to respond to his name Gimli would have been certain this was a corpse before him.

“Gimli,” Legolas said softly, “Forgive me, friend. I sought not to bring you more turmoil.”

“What happened to you?” Gimli asked in horror, stepping forward and pulling the frail Elf’s arm around his shoulder, “You look a shadow of yourself!”

“A fitting description,” Legolas replied softly, “For I have been in shadows.”

“He is much tired,” Gandalf interrupted, “Food, drink, and rest- not necessarily in that order- before you question him further.”

“Aye,” Gimli agreed, helping his friend out of the stables and heading for the men’s towers, “We’ll get you a nice room with a big window so you can…”

“No!” Legolas cried, suddenly recoiling from Gimli’s grip and nearly falling to the ground. He leaned precipitously against a stone wall with wide, pained eyes, “No! No sunlight! No starlight! No moonlight! Lock me up, Gimli! Deep in your caves where I can _smother_!”


	6. Chapter 6

Gimli stared at Legolas, his eyes wide in horror, “You hate the caves. You told me you feared you would turn into an Orc if you stayed for too long.”

“I am already cursed,” Legolas replied miserably, “Let them twist me as well.”

“His fear of caves is well past,” Gandalf replied, “It took me months but I tracked him to the mines of Moria where he was endeavouring to clean and repair the entire underground kingdom alone!”

Gimli was too shocked to reply so he simply gaped at them both.

“I have much to atone for,” Legolas stated softly, “And many years left to me before I perish. Return me and let me finish my work.”

“He’s gone mad! Thror’s Madness!” Gimli wailed, “I had no idea an elf could catch it!”

Gandalf gave him a look of disgust and shook his head, leading Shadowfax to the largest stall, normally reserved for birthing.

“He’s been banished by the elves,” Gandalf stated, “What offense he’s committed is unclear to me. He has decided he will restore all you’ve lost starting with Moria in recompense, though how a crime amongst the elves is related to you is beyond even my abilities to comprehend. Either way, he’s _your_ problem now as Arwen refuses to have him in her home and he does nothing but whinge about dwarrow. I’ll tell your men to come with a stretcher.

With that said Gandalf took himself away to clean up after his journey. Gimli helped a weakened Legolas onto the stretcher his folk brought, stroking his shorn hair out of his face.

“Send me back,” Legolas pleaded, “I can’t bear to stay here and watch your happiness from afar.”

“I’ll try to keep it to meself,” Gimli replied, then turned to the dwarves holding the stretcher, “Take him to the chambers beside mine and search him for liquor.”

XXX

Legolas was grateful for the care he received at the hands of the dwarrow. He frowned at the sight of the untreated wounds on his body. He’d no idea he had lost so much weight and his hair had barely grown.

_How could I come to this? Humiliating._

Gimli had spent the last few days visiting him, simply stopping in to share a meal with him and regal him with tales of his children and kingdom. He never expected responses from Legolas, and the elf rarely gave them. On the fourth day he came in with his children and showed them off to Legolas, but ushered them out quickly when the elf couldn’t bring himself to look at them.

“Tell me what ails you,” Gimli pleaded, “Has something happened to your loins that you resent the sight of children?” 

Legolas smiled at him sadly, “In a way, but not as you fear. I was not injured nor am I deficient.”

“Then it can be overcome,” Gimli decided.

“No,” Legolas shook his head sadly, “I’ve lost my heart and it makes my loins pointless.”

Gimli hesitated a moment, looking away as though deeply saddened, then turned back with resolve in his eyes, “I assume you have lost your heart to a mortal?”

“Yes,” Legolas nodded, eyes falling shut with misery, “I tried to sail to the Undying Lands to remove myself from… her, hoping my heart would heal there, but I was met by Lady Galadriel herself and turned away at the docks. She told me that I could not enter without my heart intact. I was sent back in shame and when I got there… I had a dispute with another elf over my return. We argued and it came to blows. I never meant to kill him, Gimli! My father turned me away. I am no longer allowed amongst my people.”

“The Lady herself turned you away?” Gimli asked in horror, “And then your father? Was there no trial?”

“I could have plead for lenience but… How can I ever go back? I have been condemned to the mortal life I tried to avoid when I turned you away so many years ago! Now you have a family, I have no one, and my life is _still_ forfeit! I can not even contain my jealousy long enough to admire your children!”

Gimli sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, seeming to consider his words carefully.

“Well… now I know why you were too busy to respond to my letters. Love is… consuming. Legolas, will you take advice from me despite my youth?”

“I respect you, if that’s what you ask,” Legolas replied, sitting up a bit more to give him space.

“This mortal you love… pursue her.”

“She is taken,” Legolas replied, shaking his head sadly.

“Pursue her anyway. Chase her until she relents or one of you leaves this mortal coil. Beg, steal, fight, do anything save abuse her. Feel no shame or guilt for what you do, only do _anything_ to have her.”

“Why would you advise me to take such drastic actions?” Legolas asked in shock.

“Because once upon I time I did not, and I have regretted it since,” Gimli replied, hand reaching out and then slowly recoiling, “Now I have lost you forever.”

Legolas looked down at his hands, “You should not regret that which brings you happiness. Your children are lovely, despite the fact I could not bring myself to look directly at them. Your son has your hair.”

“That was my daughter,” Gimli chuckled, “My son has black hair like his mother and his beard has yet to grow in.”

“How… how is… Madra, was it?”

“Merda,” Gimli replied, “She is hail and hearty.”

“And you? I’ve quite forgotten my manners as I’ve not asked these many days.”

“I’m filled with your sorrow,” Gimli replied, “I would see you heal.”

“I can not take your advice, Gimli. I will not destroy so many lives to have that which I covet.”

“Aye,” Gimli sighed, “It was a very dwarrow sentiment. What will you do instead? I’ll not let you return to Moria. It is not up to an elf to right that wrong.”

“I know not what I will do,” Legolas replied, “My passions have quite waned. I am friendless, homeless, and uninterested in any Elven pursuits.”

“Not _friendless_ , surely,” Gimli reminded gently, “And you are welcome to make your home here.”

Legolas stared down at his hands again, “I would resent you.”

“You say that often,” Gimli sighed, “I wonder that I have so much that you lack in less time than you have had. Perhaps you _should_ take my advice, seeing as how you are mortal now.”

“I will not destroy her life as I have my own.”

XXX

A few days more and Legolas was recovered enough to walk through the caves on his own. Gimli was thrilled and spent some time showing him about, pointing out the places they’d once pitched camp sites that were now homes, markets, and his own throne room. Legolas was much impressed, but for every smile there were a dozen sad sighs.

“It’s a wonder you’ve not blown out every candle we’ve passed!” Gimli grumbled, “Tell me, friend, are you quite turned around? I recall your inability to find your way beneath the ground.”

“It has improved since then,” Legolas replied, “I can find my way back to my own chambers from here.”

“Show me, then,” Gimli grinned in challenge.

They hurried along six passages, through the market, and finally back to the royal quarters. Legolas pointed out his own door and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Good,” Gimli grinned, “There were shorter ways, but you retraced your steps well enough. Now come here.”

Gimli took out a key and unlocked the door next to Legolas’, entering and leaving it open for the elf. With a flick of flint he lit a candle and then crossed the room and lit a few more.

“Whose chambers are these?” Legolas asked, glancing around the room. It clearly belonged to a bachelor judging by the scattering of clothes, items, and dust, but whomever it was he ranked high.

“Mine,” Gimli chuckled, “I wanted to make sure you were familiar with them. You can come to me any time, day or night, and you will have my ear. Here.”

Gimli pressed a key into Legolas’ palm but he stepped back and it clattered to the floor, “I can not accept that!”

“What?” Gimli blinked in surprise, “Come now, I know it’s been some years but…”

“Gimli, where is your wife?” Legolas asked, his tone frantic.

“My what?”

“Your _wife_ , Gimli! Your wife! Merda! Where is she? I look around here and I see the rooms of a man accustomed to living in solitude. Has my presence already caused you harm?”

“What harm? The maid comes by twice a week but until she does I do rather spread out a bit, but what’s that to do with Merda? And who is this wife you speak of? You know I’ve never married!”

“Never… you have _two_ children with Merda! I’ve seen them! You wrote me that the two of you…”

“Were childhood friends who agreed to have children together,” Gimli nodded, “I lost my heart to you in this very cavern, Legolas. The water I nearly drowned in runs beneath these tiles, chilling my feet to match my heart in the winter months. The wall the head of my bed lies against was the very wall I pressed you to when I stole that kiss so many decades ago. Our first and last. You are _not_ the first to have to live with a broken heart, Legolas. It can be done. Merda is a good friend, and my children are precious to me. My bed may be empty but my heart is not, though it aches enough to remind me of you each day.”

“You… you have not moved past me?” Legolas asked.

“No, never,” Gimli replied, “Did you think I would have a _wedding_ and not invite my dearest friend? Only Merda is closer to me, and she only due to childhood memories! I love you both equally, though in very different ways.”

“You laid with her to have a child,” Legolas said softly, “At least twice.”

“Aye, and it was no hardship. She’s a pretty lass, but my body always preferred a harder form.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Legolas said softly.

“Bah, it’s fine. You misread my letters,” Gimli replied, waving his hand at him before hesitating and giving him a suspicious look, “Have you been angry with me this long while?”

“Angry, yes,” Legolas replied, “And many other things that are unbecoming of a friend, especially an Elven one.”

“Perhaps you should stop counting yourself an elf,” Gimli replied, picking up the key from the floor and slipping it into Legolas’ pocket, “They’ve shamefully turned their back on you in your time of need. You are here now with us. Become one of us, Legolas.”

“Can an elf become a dwarf?” Legolas asked.

“Well, you’ll never grow a beard with that scrawny chin,” Gimli replied in mock mournfulness, “But I imagine we can make at least a dwarrow _woman_ out of you.”

“I doubt it,” Legolas smiled slowly, “They’ve more hair on their faces than I do as well!”

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Well?” Legolas asked, stepping out from behind the folding screen, “How do I look?”

Gimli’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, “Well! Aren’t you a sight!”

Legolas was dressed in the long shirts of the dwarrow, a loose pair of trousers lashed at his slender hips with a thick belt bedecked with pouches. His shoulders sported a thick leather vest and his head was crowned with a deep green hood that bore silver tassels. His feet were shod with thick work boots and his hip garnished with a pickaxe. As if to taunt Gimli further he had bound his hair back up in the marriage plait that Gimli had left his long locks on the day they had parted company after their journey together, carefully combing it so the shorter strands curled charmingly where they were shorn.

“Your tailor is cross at me for using so much material up. He said my legs are twice as long as a dwarrow’s and half as thick.”

“Coltish, you are,” Gimli laughed, “But more graceful than Shadowfax.”

“You honour me,” Legolas laughed, “I suppose I make a silly dwarf.”

“You look well enough,” Gimli replied, giving him a considering look, “Not like a dwarf, but you no longer stand out as if you had swung down from a tree. You won’t find everyone accepting of you, but enough know your name from my stories to give you respect.”

“What of work?” Legolas asked, “I refuse to sit silently by and gather dust.”

Gimli shook his head in amusement, “Do whatever you want, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I’ll not live off your household.”

“You’ve made that clear,” Gimli reminded him, “What do you _want_ to do?”

Legolas stilled, his eyes finding Gimli’s as he considered his words, “I have made so many mistakes of late. My actions have been unbecoming of an…”

“You’re a dwarf now,” Gimli replied softly, “In title if not form. What do you want to do in your _new_ life? Put the past behind you and focus on the _future_.”

“I know nothing of mining.”

“We do many other things.”

“I have experience in trade.”

“I could use help there,” Gimli nodded.

“No you couldn’t,” Legolas chuckled, “You’ve as much experience in trade as I have. We started the trade between our people together. Don’t just give me whatever I mention!”

“Fine,” Gimli grouched, folding his arms as they left the shop, “But you’re making this more difficult than it has to be.”

“I realize I was a mess when I showed up here, Gimli, but please don’t humiliate me by pandering to me,” Legolas asked softly, “I would become someone you respect.”

“You already are.”

“I’m someone you _indulge_ ,” Legolas replied, “You treat me as you do your children.”

“You’ve been through an ordeal of late…”

“Which I brought on myself,” Legolas stated firmly, “I should have a dwarrow name.”

“Rilrinn,” Gimli muttered.

“What?”

“Polished Queen,” Gimli replied, “Though ril also means gold, specifically a type that shines deep in dark ore.”

Legolas laughed, tallying their points and finding himself still winning. Gimli didn’t seem to be playing their game anymore.

“What of Greenleaf? How is that said in Khazid?”

“Hm, it’s not said that I can recall. Though we leave our mountains often enough the trees aren’t topic for discussion. Wutroth would be wood, the sort found on a mountain that is good for carving. Skarrenruf is sky or blue… what do you think of meadow mushroom? Zorn Frongol!”

Legolas clapped Gimli on the back, laughing heartily at the jest while Gimli grinned at how like himself Legolas was finally behaving.

“Come now, my friend, a real name!”

Gimli sighed, “Thingaz is forest, Ghull is exile. That is what they call you behind your back.”

“Thingaz Ghull,” Legolas stated softly, “How it sounds like gulls. I like it.”

“Perhaps stick with your own name,” Gimli replied, “It will be easier for an old dwarf to remember.”

Legolas gave him a sad but fond smile, “I’m sincere, Gimli. I _need_ to contribute.”

“What about a lookout on the walls?” Gimli suggested slowly.

Legolas flinched so hard he stumbled, something Gimli had never seen or even _heard_ of an elf doing.

“I spoke to Gandalf again,” Gimli muttered, “He showed up to see how you were doing. Did he speak with you?”

“No.”

“He told me that elves that stop to love the sky and trees become…”

“Do not say it!” Legolas stopped and spun towards him, “Were I ever to begin to change into a foul thing than I would take my own life rather than endanger those I care about!”

“And in such a way hurt us!” Gimli argued, his voice turning agonized, “Legolas, my dearest friend, please! Give the sunlight another chance! I would not lose you again!”

Legolas looked sadly away but then nodded firmly, “I will take up watch. Perhaps my eyes are not as weakened by my lengthy time underground as I fear. Still, you should station someone with me…”

_To make sure I don’t do something mad._

_To keep you safe from yourself._

“Aye,” Gimli nodded, “That I will.”

XXX

Legolas took up his guard duties on the walls of Helm’s Deep, standing watch by night at first where his eyes would be able to adjust after his long time in the darkness. Gimli wandered out at the beginning of his shift, pretending to be stretching his legs as he clutched a cup of warm milk in his hand. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, but was in fact making a small spectacle of himself by appearing in front of the sentries in his bedclothes and a housecoat. Legolas smiled without removing his eyes from the horizon.

“Oh, Legolas!” Gimli yawned, “Was tonight your shift?”

“You know it was,” Legolas replied teasingly, “Is that your daughter’s robe?”

“Very funny,” Gimli grumbled. 

Legolas 31, Gimli 4.

“How goes it?” Gimli asked, “The stars not hissing at you to leave?”

“No, they are silent and reproachful as always.”

“Reproachful?” Gimli glared up at them, “Do I need to have a word with them?”

Gimli put down his milk and to Legolas’ astonishment climbed up on the edge and shook his fist at the heavens. Legolas laughed as he began to shout at the winking lights.

“Now see here, you freakish fairly lights! This here is one hell of a dwarf!”

“I thought you were an elf?” Gordon, a human guard to Legolas’ side chuckled.

“I _was_ ,” Legolas chuckled, “I’ve been crowned Thingaz Ghull, Honorary dwarf!”

“And he,” Gimli continued, “Is my very best friend! So I’ll not have you looking down on him, ye overgrown will-o-wisps!”

“Gimli!” Legolas laughed, “You’ll bring their rage down on us!”

“Oh, will I now? Well! Take _this!_ ” And so saying Gimli turned about, lifted his robe, bent double, and mooned the stars.

Godon whistled and applauded while Legolas gasped and then laughed until his sides ached. The captain of the guard was headed over, but once he saw who was causing the ruckous he merely cracked a half-hearted joke about the king of the caves having too much to drink before bed. Gimli wave a dismissive hand at him and hopped down, collecting his milk and tossing Legolas a wink before he sauntering off.

“Your friend is clearly overprotective of you,” Gordon chuckled, “And _underprotective_ of his plump arse!”

“Too true!” Legolas chuckled, standing to attention as his captain passed by with narrowed eyes.

“An arse I’d love to plunder,” Gordon murmured, “I hear his ‘mate’ is a bigger beard than the one on his face. Is it true?”

“A beard?”

“Someone who pretends to be a partner to fend off others,” The guard chuckled, “Surely you have such a term in your language?”

 _Fiance,_ Legolas thought wryly, but out loud he spoke, “I would not speak of something so personal.”

“Never mind then,” The guard shrugged, “Could you give me a shot at finding out for myself? I’ve heard of others making their way into his bed for a while at a time, but I’ve no way to get close enough to suggest it. Perhaps you could lure him up during our next watch together and I could engage in a bit of harmless flirting?”

“I suppose,” Legolas considered.

“I would make it worth your while,” Gordon purred.

“Oh?” The elf asked.

“I could give you a sample of what I’d like to give your king,” The man’s eyebrows waggled suggestively and Legolas’ eyes shot back out to the horizon.

“We are on duty.”

“Then afterwards,” The man shrugged, “But it isn’t as if we’re the _only_ ones on duty.”

“All the more reason to wait,” Legolas replied, then realized in horror that he was _considering_ it!

_It isn’t as if I’m betraying anyone. I’m no longer an elf. I do not have to hold fast to their mores. Gimli is happy in his life I would bring the wrath of my father down on him if we were to… yet can I let myself be a plaything cast aside by this man?_

Their shift ended and they headed back to the armoury where he placed his bow down carefully, removed his armour, and then set about oiling the bowstring for storage. He was sitting on a bench to do so, his back to the human so as to ignore his presence. The human did not get the hint. Instead he straddled the bench behind where Legolas sat with one leg on the support to rest his bow against while caring for it. Gordon leaned forward and ran his lips over Legolas’ neck, drawing a shiver from him.

“I think it is best you save such affections for the king,” Legolas stated carefully.

“I think it is best you relaxed,” Gordon replied, “I have no attachments, if that is what worries you.”

“No… I…” Legolas’ voice cut out as the human reached around him and ran strong hands over his chest and abdomen. Legolas found his body arching in want, but quickly pulled away. Gordon stood but froze when a cocked arrow greeted him.

“What is this!” Gordon stammered, “If you disliked my advances, you might have said so!”

“Consider this a statement of distaste.”

“High and mighty elf!” The man snarled, disgust turning him ugly, “I was warned about your kind, and how you look down on us and our ways. How you don’t want to _sully_ yourselves with _pleasure_. Take leave! I can do better than your limp dick!”

So saying he turned and left the armoury, leaving Legolas to clean up his equipment while feeling decidedly disgusted with himself yet unsure as to why.

XXX

“Gimli!” Legolas called, “I wanted a word with you.”

“Oh?” Gimli looked up, “How goes guard duty?”

“It is… difficult. I had forgotten what differences lay between men and… dwarves.”

“Indeed,” Gimli chuckled, “They can be a shifty bunch. Prone to sudden outbursts.”

For a moment Legolas thought that Gimli was making a direct reference and had heard of the night before, but then the dwarf cocked his head to one side curiously and waited for Legolas to continue.

“My companion wished me to ask if you have an interest in human men,” Legolas stated, forcing his voice to come out evenly, “He found your demonstration last night to be… invigorating.”

Legolas was proud of his speech, despite the fact that he was certain he was as red as a ruby. He had done some focused thinking and decided if he was going to be a dwarf he was going to embrace all aspects, including their heightened sexuality.

“Oh, he did, eh?” Gimli grinned, “I don’t recall him. Was he good looking?”

“I can’t tell with humans,” Legolas admitted with a shrug, “He had a beard, though.”

“Well, that’s a plus,” Gimli chuckled, “Though I’ve fallen for my fair share of beardless folk.”

Legolas looked away at his wink and Gimli sighed, “I’m sorry, Legolas. That lady who stole your heart must truly be something. Has your mind not changed?”

“No.”

“Is it Eowyn?”

“What? No!” Legolas blushed.

“Oh, good. She’s still quite happily married. What was this fellow’s name? It’s been far too long since I had a bedmate if I can’t stop myself flirting with you.”

“Gordon. Eonden Gordon.”

“I’ll drop by during your watch and have a glance at him.”

“He’ll be flirting while you do,” Legolas forced himself to smile.

“All the better,” Gimli chuckled.

“Gimli,” Legolas tried, “Why haven’t you settled down with a man if that is who you prefer? Or with Merda?”

“Merda and I don’t think of each other that way,” Gimli shrugged, “We’ve done a fair bit of fondling, and of course we had the children, but we don’t love each other as more than friends. As for others… Legolas, I don’t want to make you feel bad by bringing this up again, but since you asked…”

“Me?” Legolas asked.

“Could you love another while adoring your lady?”

“I don’t understand,” Legolas shook his head, “We were… we did so little! What could draw you to such a devoted love?”

“Have you done so much more with your lady?” Gimli asked curiously, then took in his expression and shook his head, “I thought not. What is her name, by the by?”

“I’d rather not say it,” Legolas replied bitterly, “It breaks my heart to speak of her. Perhaps I should retire to supper now. I have my shift again in three hours.”

“Forgive me,” Gimli sighed, “I seem to only distress you.”

“On the contrary,” Legolas smiled warmly, “You give me great comfort and the only joy I have had in far too long.”

“How so?” Gimli asked “I only ever talk you in circles!”

“Like a dance,” Legolas replied, and so saying waltzed from the room while Gimli laughed at his antics.

XXX

Legolas hated his ears. At least his eyes he could turn away, but his _ears_. His ears he could only stop up so much before it became obvious that even removing them wouldn’t dispel the eager grunts and moans that came from the lower level of the watch tower. Perhaps going on an early patrol…? No. The door was down the spiral steps, and the base of those steps was where Gimli was currently engaged in some form of male-on-male coitus with Gordon.

A strained sound, two contented sighs, silence. Were they _finally_ done?

“Now _that_ was a proper buggering!” Gimli laughed, “Maybe next time I’ll let you top me.”

“As you wish, sire,” Gordon grumbled, sounding less than happy with the situation.

“Oh, buck up! You can’t expect me to just let _anyone_ back there, eh? Go on, then. You got off, didn’t you? Quite a bit, from the sound of you.”

Gordon whispered something that Legolas’ ears couldn’t pick up over the sound of his hands frantically rubbing at them to block out their voices. Gimli laughed.

“I doubt it! He could hear a pig fart in Minas Tirith from that watchtower! Next time you want to keep the position of your bedmates secret don’t meet them while on patrol. Goodmarrow, Eonden.”

“Goodmarrow, sire.”

Gordon came up the steps and Legolas hated each staggered step, knowing Gimli had left him weak-kneed with pleasure. He did in fact look sated when the elf’s jealous eyes glanced towards him. In fact he looked about to fall asleep on his feet.

“I had no idea dwarves were so…” Gordon searched for the word as Legolas hesitantly lowered his hands.

“That is my _friend_ you speak of,” Legolas stated quickly, “I have already heard more than I wished tonight. Keep your observations to yourself.”

“You could have left,” Gordon grumbled.

“You were between me and the door!” Legolas snapped, “I did you a favour. Next time do one for me and take your trysts elsewhere!”

“Yes Master Prude!” Gordon sneered, bowing with much exaggeration, “I won’t be meeting up with him again anyway.”

Legolas gaped at him, “Why not?! You two agreed to meet up regularly. I heard you!”

Gordon laughed, “That was only to get him to agree to have sex with me tonight! Everyone knows Lord Gimli is a heartbreaker, he has left a trail of them all through his precious caves.”

“I have heard no such thing,” Legolas replied.

“Look,” Gordon sighed, “I’m too worn out for your princely routine, O Banished One. Ask him yourself.”

“I will,” Legolas replied with a sniff, “And if you don’t tell him before then I will inform him of your disinterest.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

XXX

“Broken hearts?” Gimli sighed, staring into his cup, “I suppose. Not intentionally, mind you. Frankly they didn’t exactly leave me feeling content.”

“What do you mean?” Legolas asked, “I’m unaware of a lifestyle outside of nearly lifelong marriage.”

“Aye, I keep forgetting,” Gimli shook his head in bemusement, “I haven’t been bedding half the keep like he says, of course. I _have_ had a few lovers, though. One human and two dwarves outside of Merda. I’d hoped… well, you can guess what I hoped. It didn’t work. In the end they ended things with me.”

“Why?” Legolas asked, “You are a Lord, a generous lover, and a wonderful friend. Who wouldn’t want to keep you once they had you?”

“Who indeed,” Gimli grumbled, then spoke up, “Legolas, they all said the same thing and I’ve come to accept it: I wasn’t giving myself fully to them.”

“You have a fiefdom to run! And a family!”

“Aye, but those weren’t the parts they begrudged me of. They accused me of not loving them enough _as a partner_ , not as a Lord or father.”

Legolas’ eyes dropped, “It is because of me, isn’t it? It always comes back to me and your unending affection for me.”

“It’s not your problem,” Gimli replied, patting his leg soothingly, “My chance with you passed, I’m the fool who can’t let you go.”

“If you are truly unable to relinquish your love for me, then why bed down Gordon?”

“He was willing and I have needs,” Gimli shrugged, “I’m not surprised he doesn’t intend to meet with me again. That’s why I refused to bottom. If folk are going to line up to ride me, they’ll not treat me like a pony when they do! I rather like being thoroughly buggered, but not by someone who doesn’t care about me.”

“Gimli, you must stop this. You will lose the people’s respect!”

“I doubt it,” Gimli snorted.

“Gordon does not respect you. Not once you’ve left his presence.”

“Nor will he respect anyone. He’s a young bastard who thinks surviving the war while nestled on his mother’s teat made him a veteran. Age will cure him of his temperament.”

Legolas drifted into contemplation while Gimli finished his breakfast, “Come, lad. You’ll need to get yourself to bed. You’ve got to sleep up for your next shift.”

Legolas opened his mouth to inform Gimli that he didn’t require that much rest when he wasn’t doing heavy labour, but a thought occurred to him that had his jaw clicking shut.

“What is it?” Gimli asked, looking about the cavern where groups of dwarrow and the occasional human dined, “You look as though you’ve seen your lady!”

“I think I have!” Legolas crowed, “Gimli, you are my dearest friend and I shall always cherish you!”

“You talk like that and I worry,” Gimli grumbled, narrowing his eyes at him.

“It’s merely a passing fancy,” Legolas laughed, shaking his head in amusement, “Forgive me my strange words. I think I have settled my heart finally. I will turn in as you suggested and let the reverie steal away the last of my sorrow!”

“You do that…” Gimli replied, watching him leave with a jealous sigh, “Lucky bastard. Would that I could meditate my pain away.”

XXX

Legolas’ plan was more difficult to arrange than he’d initially thought. Not many humans had stands inside of the Glistening Caves, so he had to open one in the bazaar outside of it. There he set himself to carving delicate objects from wood he gathered while on patrol, the likes of which neither man nor dwarf had ever seen in Helm’s Deep. Tiny harps, lutes, flutes, whistles, statues, and even a few of those toys Gimli had bought so long ago. The last he kept to himself, but the rest all went up on the stand to sell. He was no longer being kept watch of while on watch, so no one knew of his excursions and his woodwork he kept to his room, taking care to tuck it all away in a closet despite the fact no one entered his rooms.

Soon enough, Gimli passed by his stall one late evening just as Legolas was thinking of closing up shop. He paused, clearly delighted by the delicate toys and instruments that greeted his eyes.

“Well!” Gimli breathed, “I’ve not seen such woodwork since I left the land of elves!”

Legolas plastered on an insincere smile and sauntered up, hoping his disguise would work. He _should_ appear to be a simple human with mid-length wavy brown hair and a very light beard and moustache*. The beard had been the most difficult since he didn’t naturally grow hair on his face. He’d had to use adhesive to attach it to his flesh. The first type he’d used had burned his flesh but this one he had developed himself and worked quite well. It was even able to withstand water to a certain extent. A paste he had removed it cleanly, leaving no abrasions on his face to show where it had ben. A trick of coloured eye paint had shifted his eyes from blue to grey and his ears were hidden beneath his wavy hair. A bit of dirt on his cheeks made him less otherworldly and changed the shape of his cheekbones to make him look leaner. When Gimli glanced up at him his eyes barely paused.

 _Perfect_.

“Goodevening sir,” Legolas chirped, affecting a human accent.

“That’s _sire_ ,” Gimli corrected, but not with much ire, he was turning a tiny harp over in his hands, “Does it play?”

“Yes, sire. Apologies sire. I had no idea. I’ve not been here long and haven’t seen you before now. Could I make my grievous mistake up to you? Perhaps by carving your likeness? Your lady love would be impressed.”

“She would if I had one,” Gimli scoffed, “How much for this tiny thing? And do you teach foolish dwarrow how to play them?”

“Seven silver coins, my Lord, and I can only teach dwarrow who are _not_ foolish how to play them.”

Gimli’s eyes shot up at this, but Legolas had that grin on his face that let the dwarf know he was teasing. This was the final test. His disguise would either pass or Gimli would recognize it enough to call him out. For a moment they stared at one another and then Gimli laughed in amusement. He fished seven coins from his pocket and slammed them down on the table, barely avoiding destroying a whistle as he did so.

“Sold! And how much for the lessons?”

“A trade, sire?”

“You really want to carve me, eh?” Gimli asked, “You won’t find a niche there. Dozens of stalls have my likeness. Stick to these, they’ll sell better.”

“No stall has the delicacy of mine,” Legolas reminded him, “The wood and I are lovers, and she makes me the most beautiful of children.”

“Does she?” Gimli chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, “What’s your name, son?”

“Sora,” Legolas replied, “Of the Dúnedain.”

“Aragorn’s kin! How are you related?”

“Very distant cousins, I’m afraid. We’ve not met since he ascended the throne, and I was a child when he rode with you, sire.”

“Aye, so you were. Well Sora, when shall we make this trade?”

“I am free tomorrow morning some time after the breakfast hour.”

“Then I’ll find some time to pop by.”

Legolas smiled as Gimli strode away from him, eager for the next phase of his plan to work. The next morning he showed up to breakfast late after having spent an hour using one of his home-made butt plugs on himself. He hadn’t been fond of it though he’d felt a few sparks of pleasure towards the end. He strode into breakfast as himself, yawning and rubbing at his eyes in exaggeration of his tiredness. Just as he walked up he heard Gimli remarking to a dwarf beside him.

“I just don’t know how I feel about it. Does he think I’m stupid or is this some way of coping with…? Legolas! Lad! You look knackered, come and sit beside me. Have a drink! It will send you to a swifter slumber.”

“Good morning friend,” Legolas sighed, sinking into his chair.

“Ready to switch to day shift?” Gimli teased.

“No indeed! The stars have been most polite to me since you told them off and showed them your _firmer_ side.”

Gimli turned a bit red and laughed. So did the dwarf beside him, which implied he was in on the joke. Legolas’ eyes were immediately drawn to him, jealousy blooming as he assumed someone in such confidence was another lover. He had long wavy red hair and light sideburns. His beard was thinner than most and sported only side braids, but that only gave him leave to spy pale skin beneath it.

“Ah, Legolas, this is Merda,” Gimli introduced, “She just got back from visiting her kinsfolk at Iron Mountain late last night.”

“I saw the party come in,” Legolas nodded, “Well met, friend Merda.”

“Well met indeed!” She replied, her voice lighter than Gimli’s but still the gruffness of the dwarves. He had such trouble telling their men from their women still, “I’ve heard so much of you I fancy you kin! Come and give me a proper greeting!”

She moved around the table and grasped him from behind in a tight embrace, giving him a rather alarming feel of the differences between dwarrow sexes. She pressed a peck to his cheek and pinched it’s twin before heading back to her seat with a hearty chuckle.

“He’s as soft as a baby, Gimli! What draws you to him?” Merda asked, her eyes telling Legolas she was teasing.

Legolas smiled, finding it hard to hate her despite her closeness with Gimli. He treated her like a friend rather than a lover and Legolas was soon leaning forward and chatting with her with their foreheads nearly touching as he leaned over the breakfast table- quite forsaking his manners- to listen to her embarrassing tales of Gimli the wayward dwarf child. Gimli sat between them, chuckling and occasionally correcting her tales, and smoking his pipe almost anxiously.

“Shouldn’t you be taking yourself to bed?” Gimli reminded just as the story leaned towards her attempts to get pregnant with Gimli.

“Just a moment longer!” Merda scolded Gimli, “He hadn’t been with a woman in a while, you see…”

“Gimli is right,” Legolas replied, jolting upright in a hurry, “I really must be off to bed.”

He fled most anxiously, his feet barely touching the ground as he sought out his bedchambers. That was one side of Merda and Gimli’s relationship that he did _not_ want a glimpse of! Legolas quickly changed into his human costume and hurried to the stall. From what he’d overheard it was possible Gimli had found him out… or he was discussing some other deceit. Either way if his friend were willing to play along than so was Legolas. Just so long as what followed remained secret from his bothersome father, assuming he could lure his friend into a proper relationship with a ‘man’.

Legolas set up a large chunk of wood and sat down delicately. He had the plug inside of him still, keeping him stretched open. He’d heard Gimli having to stretch Gordon and hadn’t wanted to go through that humiliation. Sex, yes. Awkwardly working his arsehole open while Gimli commented on how nice and loose he was becoming, odd squelching noises coming up from his nether parts? No thank you. If he could give Gimli pleasure- even if Legolas found the act detestable- he would be more than grateful for the time he spent with his beloved.

“Ah, there you are!” Gimli’s voice boomed. Legolas turned, pretending to startle as a human might, “I thought you had changed your mind. I showed up some time ago but you were absent.”

“Apologies,” Legolas smiled, “I’m afraid I slept in and barely had time to bathe, dress, and eat. I found this log here that spoke your name to me.”

“Well!” Gimli laughed, “I suppose a life-size statue hasn’t been done _too_ often.”

“I’m going to break it down and do several, actually,” Legolas replied.

“That will take more than one sitting,” Gimli observed.

“Yes, but so will your harp lessons, unless you are a quicker study than any pupil I’ve ever had!”

Gimli chuckled, “The lessons are for my daughter. I thought we’d take it in turns. I’ll pose, you’ll teach. When one of us runs out of turns the other will start paying in coin.”

“Sounds fair enough,” Legolas smiled teasingly, “Though I’ve been told to be wary of dwarrow and their deals.”

“Well if ever you feel slighted you just let me know,” Gimli chuckled, “Though I can’t imagine you will with _this_ fair figure to carve!”

So saying Gimli struck a ludicrous pose that had Legolas laughing and shaking his head, “I think perhaps it is _you_ who will feel slighted. I may have neglected to make clear my intentions with my sculpture yesterday.”

“Oh?” Gimli asked, raising an eyebrow, “Swindling a swindler, are you? How unclear were you?”

“I was hoping that you might pose… nude?” Legolas suggested, adopting an air of embarrassment when he actually felt none. Art was done nude sometimes, even amongst his most chaste people.

“Luckily for you I’ve no discomfort for such a thing,” Gimli chuckled, “So long as I’m kept warm.”

“I’ve braziers burning in here,” Legolas replied, gesturing to the curtained off area behind his stall.

Gimli nodded and stepped inside when Legolas pulled it aside for him, “Ah, this will do. There, then?”

“If you please, sire,” Legolas smiled.

Gimli undressed without shame rather than using the changing screen Legolas had provided for him. The elf found himself turning away before he forced himself to resume his preparations without shame on his face. He _would_ behave as a human, and humans had no shame from nudity. Gimli climbed up on the crate Legolas had covered with a few blankets and sat there with his ankles swinging. Legolas smirked at his hairless feet. It was amusing to him that hobbits and dwarrow were such opposites of each other. Gimli’s feet were one of the few places he didn’t have hair.

“How shall I pose?” Gimli asked and Legolas had to look away from his twitching member.

“A natural pose at first, I think,” Legolas replied, “I’d like you as comfortable as possible.”

“While in the duff,” Gimli chuckled, “In that case perhaps you should turn this crate upside-down and pretend it’s a bath!”

“I’m not opposed,” Legolas replied.

Gimli hopped down and Legolas flipped it over, transferring the blankets inside the crate. Gimli climbed in with his assistance and sighed as if relaxing into a warm tub of water. His arms were relaxed over each side and his knees were splayed open where his feet rested near his bum. Legolas propped a pillow behind his head so he could relax his head back.

“Perfect!” Legolas declared, collecting a chisel and hammer, “Can you hold that?”

“A pillow behind my back would help,” Gimli replied.

Legolas returned and couldn’t stop himself from running a hand across Gimli’s back on his way down with the pillow and then up without it. Gimli allowed the contact, shifting back and relaxing his legs once again to show a half-hard cock. Legolas swallowed hard and quickly headed to the log to begin his carving, but then realized it was too far away to get the angle he wanted. He shifted the table closer so he could stare down into the ‘bath’ a bit off to Gimli’s right.

“This brings back fond memories,” Gimli said softly.

“Does it?”

“Aye. When I was still covered in stubble instead of a beard- that’s a reference to youth for dwarrow- my fellow trainees and I would soak off the swordmaster’s bruises together. We’d be two to a barrel, one heating the coals while the other soaked, then we’d switch. By the time we were done soaking the stiffness away a _new_ stiffness had emerged.”

“Oh?” Legolas asked, having finished the rough outline, he broke the first small sculpture away from the larger and sat it down on a table, shifting the furniture around so he could keep the same angle.

“Aye. We would head to the steam room and just…” Gimli’s voice drifted off. He looked relaxed, a bemused smile on his face, but his hardened cock betrayed his true feelings.

“Just?” Legolas prompted, putting a teasing note to his voice.

“Touch,” Gimli sighed happily, “We were young so there wasn’t much we were brave enough to do.”

“I can sympathize,” Legolas replied, deciding to stick to his story of a youthful human despite the fact he very much suspected Gimli knew it was a ruse, “I’m sadly inexperienced myself.”

“Such a handsome lad as yourself?” Gimli asked, cracking an eye open.

“I’m often busy with my art. Apparently my calluses lessen the attractiveness of my face.”

“Calluses can be quite fun,” Gimli chuckled, “If you know what to do with them.”

Legolas had a good start on his statue, so he decided it was time to focus on his _real_ project.

“I’ve no one to show me such things,” Legolas replied.

“Oh?” Gimli cracked an eye open, “ _No one_?”

“No,” Legolas replied, “Unless…”

“Unless?” Gimli replied, his mouth twitching beneath his red beard.

Damn him! Gimli took up a sensitive time to start their game up again! He was going to make Legolas ask _outright_!

“Unless your liege would deign to lie with so lowly a subject,” Legolas spoke softly, his eyes lowered as shame sent colour washing up his torso and face.

“Come here, Sora,” Gimli stated, voice soft and comforting.

Legolas stepped closer, hesitant and anxious. Gimli took his hand in his and stroked it gently. For a moment they stared down at the differences, Gimli’s hand wide and short while Legolas’ were slender and long. Calluses grew on both in different areas, Gimli’s from axe and tools while Legolas’ were from swords, bows, and carving wood.

“The difference in our rank,” Gimli stated softly, “Pertains only to who runs this fiefdom and who runs _through_ this fiefdom. You have as much right to my body as a man who is my equal, meaning if you desire me you have but to ask. If I feel the same I’ll respond well to you, and-“ Gimli winked- “we can dispense of the title in bed.”

Legolas smiled softly, honestly feeling comforted by his words, “Sire, I very much desire you.”

“Then come and have me,” Gimli purred, rising to his feet, “Just as soon as you get me out of this crate!”

Legolas laughed and lent Gimli his hand so the dwarf could step out of the crate.

“Now, where shall we retire to?” Gimli asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek fondly, “My rooms are a fair twenty minute walk from here.”

Legolas had already thought this out and new of a quite place, “I am staying in the Inn up the street. My rooms will suffice.”

“Aye, they might,” Gimli grinned, “But _my_ rooms have a tub big enough for two- even with your long body- _and_ a steam room.”

XXX

Legolas was grateful for the dim lighting in the bath, since it was unlikely that he’d be able to keep his makeup on. Still, the temptation of having Gimli in a bath or steam room with him, having the very fantasy he had carried after hearing Gimli’s tales of camaraderie and intimacy, it was simply too good a suggestion to pass up. Legolas found himself slowly stripping in front of Gimli for what felt like the hundredth time, except this time he was nervous and shy in ways he’d never been before this day. Gimli smiled softly and discarded his clothing as if this were a common occurrence. Perhaps to him it was, his behaviour with Gordon certainly seemed as if it was.

“Now then,” Gimli grinned, “We set the scene, eh? We’ve both just come from a hard days work; you’ll have to use your imagination _artist_ , but I for one never stop working. After such a _tiresome_ and _weary_ day, we return to the public baths to soak away our aches and pains and find… a new ache in our loins.”

Gimli gestured to the large circular iron tub, plated with silver and kept polished to sheen, stood on six clawed feet. In it was a wealth of steaming water that Gimli’s servants had brought in for them while ‘Sora’ made himself scarce. Now they both stood beside it and the wooden steps that led into the beautiful, scented bath.

Legolas was first to enter the water, eager to cover himself with the water rather than stand exposed. Gimli slipped in at a slower pace, sighing as he sank into the perfumed waters. Legolas could already feel his groin stirring despite the heat around him, but as it was Gimli settled into the bath with a contented sigh and gave no sign of wanting to move from his spot.

“When will you be free again?” Gimli asked, “For that music lesson, hm?”

“Two days hence,” Legolas replied, hoping he was recovered from their activities today by then.

“Normally,” Gimli murmured conversationally, “My people would have living quarters in one areas interspersed between markets and fair cities all spread throughout a mountain. The Glittering caves are smaller than most dwarrow dwellings, and we do not wish to a make the mistake that was made in Moria. These caves are barely dug out, only harvested gently. The living areas are more like those of men, tents and wooden structures built against the sides of the caves where existing chambers aren’t available. These chambers are an exception. During my first exploration of these beautiful caverns an underground lake flooded these several rooms. An accident caved part of it in and the water has since receeded. It required shoring up so we built a series of small chambers as supports, including my chambers. The benefit? _Indoor plumbing_. It’s something we dwarves have had for some time- and a few of the more advanced human settlements like Rohan and Gondor- but they stole it from _us_. Still, even in dwarrow settlements it is more common for the individual homes to have limited if any sort of convenience like that. A well and bathhouse in each ‘town’ and the sort of plumbing for what comes _out_ of a group of people, but not nice hot _baths_ inside of homes! I am a spoiled dwarf.”

Legolas chuckled, “And here I am benefiting from it. Do the other chambers have such conveniences?”

“Nay, this is my den if iniquity alone. It would be a burden to have to fill baths like this regularly. There is a bathhouse three chambers over and a rather lovely kitchen five over that cooks for the entire of our small fiefdom.”

Legolas knew all this, of course, but it was in his benefit to pretend ignorance. His own (former) people had such things, but they were more biologically done than the forms the dwarrow used. More was focused on pumping water _in_ and only simple holes in the ground of a dwelling let the refuse out, a carefully made aqueduct keeping things from becoming foul or diseased and schools of water creatures carefully cultivated to dispose of their waste naturally. Dwarves were more about purifying their own waste in treatment facilities so that they could remain autonomous while the elves looked to natural means.

“Are you responsible for the fine facilities throughout this fort, then?”

“I am,” Gimli grinned, “And other human cities are benefiting from my knowledge as well. Health will follow. Less illness will prevail. Men will live longer.”

“As long as dwarrow?” Legolas mused, smiling as he turned a bit in the tub.

Gimli chuckled and shook his head, “Perhaps some day. For now, you are young and I am hot from this bath.”

Gimli turned to smile at Legolas, his eyes heavy with lust. Legolas could feel it curling in his belly but fear chased it around in circles. Gimli saw it. Perhaps his chatter had been an attempt to dispel it. It had failed, but his soft touch along Legolas’ cheek soothed him far better. He closed his eyes and let Gimli gentle him, large rough hands sliding along his slender form with a tenderness he hadn’t expected. Legolas trembled with longing and no small amount of trepidation. This last step was a turning point for him. With this action he truly left his people and chose a mortal life for himself, rather than having it thrust upon him.

Legolas’ legs fell open as Gimli’s hand slid down his abdomen and found his hard shaft.

“You’re a beautiful man, Sora,” Gimli spoke softly, leaning forward to draw his head down with his other hand and press their lips together.

Legolas whimpered against the kiss, longing for his true name to be used but knowing that he had to leave it behind if he wanted to have his heart’s desire. His lips parted and Gimli’s rough beard teased his sensitive flesh a moment before warm lips covered his. How he had _dreamt_ of them! How he had recalled the soft caress of a wet muscle pressed against his own, the taste of his lover combined with the deep and powerful groan that quickly followed. Legolas’ mouth was lax this time, lost in sensation as Gimli’s talented hand pleasured him with such ease. Was it really this simple? Did one simply lay back and allow such intimate touch? What right did he have to the fire sparking along his nerves like stray lightening across a summer sky? His breath quickened and he knew this would be over far too soon. Long had his body craved release and he denied it while trembling with want beneath blankets in cold caverns. Long had he sobbed out his loss instead of gasping out his pleasure as he did now. His belly tightened, contracted, pleasure left him gasping with his head thrown back against the curved side of the tub.

“Oh,” Gimli whispered, “I would die to see that again.”

Legolas couldn’t open his eyes. Shame came fast on the tail of his overwhelming pleasure. Tears threatened to spill even as lips pressed against jaw and licked sweat and water droplets from his neck.

“Beautiful,” Gimli whispered, “Like liquid marble. Flowing mithril. My beautiful one.”

“Gimli,” Legolas gasped, his throat tight from fear and self-loathing.

“Come now,” Gimli pleaded softly, “Don’t recoil from me. Hold me, dear one. Let me love you. I would give you my heart.”

“I would beg for it!” Legolas sobbed, finding his lap full of a hot dwarrow body as he grasped at Gimli’s arms.

“Please…” Gimli breathed.

Legolas’ hands moved of their own accord, his eyes flying open to watch them move across firm muscle and round flesh. Gimli was hard rock with a layer of soft moss, his entire body made to toil and love in equal measure. Legolas found his lost courage and wrapped his hand around a sword of a different calibre. Gimli’s cock was unshorn, thick, and slightly curved. Legolas pumped him hesitantly at first and then with renewed excitement as his touch drew groans and heated cries from his friend. Gimli adjusted his grip by covering his hand, whispering instructions to him.

“Don’t fear the foreskin, trust me it’s your friend. Just treat it with respect. Yes! That’s it. Your thumb across the top and… oh! There! Just… ah!”

Gimli gripped Legolas’ shoulders and rolled his hips, thrusting into his hand as he panted in desire. The water sloshed in the tub, up near Gimli’s armpits but nowhere near as high on Legolas. He felt a sudden rush as the dwarf before him pressed closer, pressing against Legolas’ very body. He freed his hand from between them and grasped at Gimli’s full bottom instead, nails digging in as the dwarf pumped his shaft along Legolas’ slick body. He could feel him hot and pulsing between them, and quickly lowered his head to press kisses across that precious brow and his cherry-red cheeks. Gimli’s strong motions were grinding the plug in Legolas’ body into that sensitive spot inside of him. Sparks flew behind his eyes and he cried out in pleasure, beginning to move his body with that of his dear friend. Gimli groaned and Legolas shivered as his cock swelled once again. He felt it prod against Gimli’s back end and was trapped between wanting to push up against him and fearing the touch.

“So hard again!” Gimli gasped, “Was that a plug I saw winking at me when you climbed into the tub?”

Legolas couldn’t answer. He had given up on his shame and was pushing his aching cock up against Gimli’s fleshy orbs. He found his way between them and pressed them together to rub his cock betwixt his full cheeks. Gimli moaned his approval and sped up, his hands sure to leave bruises on Legolas’ flesh even as their lips crashed together once again.

Then Gimli stilled against him and Legolas gasped as he felt the pulse of his cock, hot fluid spreading out between their bodies. Gimli let out a cry as if he were headed for battle that made Legolas worry about someone barging in on them to check his health, but the dwarf sank down against him and no one entered as he panted for a full minute.

“Oh Durin!” Gimli gasped, “You make me _feel_ again!”

“I think I have never felt till now,” Legolas whispered.

Gimli began to move his hips again and Legolas feared for a moment he had left him unsatisified. Then he realized Gimli was responding to Legolas’ twitching hips as his body chased a second climax without his brain’s permission. Legolas grasped his full figure tightly, burying his face in Gimli’s beard and taking in his spicy scent in combination with the herbs in the bath. It was beautiful. Surely the Undying Lands could not compare to this moment?

Gimli growled, “I can feel how you throb for me. Does it tease you inside? Do you feel it touching your most intimate places?”

“Yes!” Legolas cried, the word torn from his throat. He was approaching a second climax at breakneck speed, unaware that his body was even _capable_ of such explosive gratification.

“Yes,” Gimli moaned, “Beautiful! So long and hard for me! I could grow used to a cut member if it feels like this against me. Come for me, darling!”

Legolas was the one to scream this time, his release burning through him as he gripped Gimli’s body tightly against his own. He was weak limbed and tired by the time his body stopped pulsing between Gimli’s cheeks. So he simply slipped back and let his head fall against the side of the tub, Gimli’s weight the only thing keeping him from sliding beneath the scented water. Gimli chuckled.

“If you think _that_ was amazing, wait till you’re inside me or vice versa.”

Legolas smiled lazily and Gimli kissed him fondly before reaching for some soap and a flannel. He washed himself while humming happily as he sat in Legolas’ lap. The elf was a bit worried about the fluids floating in the tub with them, but if Gimli wasn’t disgusted by it perhaps it wasn’t as dirty as he’d been taught. Gimli washed Legolas briefly, slipping the plug from his bottom with his permission and left the bath. Legolas slipped out and joined him in drying off while smiling shyly and glancing greedily towards Gimli’s private steam room. It was small but cozy and they were eager to breathe in each other’s sweat. Then a rap at the door froze them in place.

“Gimli?” A voice called, “Brother, open the door!”

“My youngest brother, Boffin,” Gimli sighed, “Wait here. I’ll be rid of him.”

Legolas stood in the entrance to the bath while Gimli headed for the door in just a towel. He threw it open and glowered at the person on the other side, but Legolas couldn’t see him from where he stood.

“What is it?” Gimli grunted.

“What is it?” The unseen dwarf asked in disbelieving tones, “What is it?! _What is it?!_ ”

“Have you been struck dumb? Or has that lump above your shoulders finally come down to our level and then kept sinking?” Gimli snapped.

“Gimli,” Boffin snarled, “I am proud to serve you, proud to help you run your fiefdom, proud to call you brother, and proud to be your steward when you travel, but _you were due in court over an hour ago and no one listens to me when you’re here!_ What excuse can you possibly have?! I know you were up at breakfast, you were there flirting with that elf again! Lost cause that he is!”

“I met someone,” Gimli replied.

“Then you simply _vanish_. Merda said you claimed to be going to the shops for an hour or two, but you never returned! Just as I’m about to set lose a search party, fearing the worst, one of your staff tells me that they _drew you a bath_!”

“And I’m going to spend the rest of the day with him,” Gimli added.

“Now here I am, at your door, hoping to find you well but expecting to find you nearly _dead_ as you should be if you’re _not doing your duties,_ and what do you have to say for yourself?! _What is…_ Wait… Did you say you _met_ someone?”

“He’s _gorgeous_ ,” Gimli smiled, “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to lure him into my bedchambers. He’s rather shy and… _inexperienced_.”

Legolas couldn’t help but blush red at the saucy tone to that last word. Gimli apparently found his fumbling in the bath _attractive_? Why? An experienced lover would have known how to bring _him_ off twice as well!

“You… you’re actually… I’ve not seen you smile like this in years!”

“He makes me laugh,” Gimli chuckled, “I’m quite fond of him already.”

“Finally! Someone to replace your misguided infatuation with that faithless elf!”

“Mind your tongue,” Gimli snapped, “That’s my best friend you’re talking about. He’s anything but faithless. Cover for me, Boffin? I have a rare opportunity here.”

“If it puts the sparkle back in your eye, I’ll move the mountain to a location he likes better!” Boffin crowed, “Happy mining, brother!”

Gimli laughed and shut the door, turning to where Legolas shied behind the doorway to the bath.

“My mood for a steam has lifted in the wake of my brother’s outpouring of napalm. Are you hungry? A drink, perhaps?”

Legolas shied away, worried that he’d be recognized after the soaking he’d had in the tub, but still not sure he’d actually _fooled_ his friend.

“I should return to work,” Legolas tarried.

“I _can_ pay you for your lessons, you know. You need not spend so much time at your shop. Come. What is one day away?”

“I have other clients.”

“Will a written excuse from the Lord of the Keep, do? Or shall I appear in person to plead your release?” Gimli replied in a teasing voice.

“I can not. Please forgive me, sire.”

Gimli was silent a moment. When he spoke his voice was choked, “Please. I fear when you leave these chambers you will never appear to me again.”

Legolas looked away miserably, “I still have a lesson promised to you in two days time.”

“That’s too long to wait. I want to hold you _now_.”

“Patience is a virtue, my Lord.”

Gimli sighed, “Sora. Don’t make me beg. It’s been a long time since someone awoke such feelings in me.”

Gimli walked forward and stroked his damp locks. Legolas let his eyes fall shut and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Gimli’s neck. He leaned forward and rested his lips against the top of his head while Gimli pressed closer and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist.

“Promise me you’ll stay?”

“Gimli… I…”

“My dear heart, I would give you everything I have to spend my nights in your arms and fight for more to put a smile on your face!”

Legolas stroked Gimli’s hair, unable to speak for a moment.

“I’ll stay,” He forced out finally, his throat too choked to explain further.

Gimli tugged Legolas to the bed, pulling away his towel and pressing him down into soft sheets. He tucked Legolas in and stood beside him with a fond smile.

“What can I get ye? Food? Wine? Yer wraith thin.”

“Both,” Legolas replied, then let his eyes drift shut as Gimli headed for the door to fetch them repast. He had drifted into reverie unintentionally but stirred awake when Gimli settled on the bed with a tray full of food and wine.

“Here, love,” Gimli soothed, helping him sit up as if he were fragile.

“I’m not _that_ tired from your attentions,” Legolas laughed.

“No,” Gimli replied, “You’re weary from sadness. I know that feeling all too well.”

“As I look at you now you seem decades younger!” Legolas replied, “What has caused this? I yearn for that feeling again. I’ve felt so _old_ of late.”

“A broken heart aged me beyond my years. You are soothing it,” Gimli kissed his brow and pressed a goblet into his hands.

Legolas sipped the soothing liquid and settled into the pillows with a sigh.

“I could be soothed by this as well.”


	8. Chapter 8

Gimli strode into his halls with a swagger in his step and a grin on his face. His cousin Boffin’s jaw dropped at the sight of him, then a grin spread from ear to ear, shifting his proud braids up near his sideburns.

“Finally!” He crowed, “My cousin has abandoned his moping ways and returned to his proud self!”

“Proud and _sated_ ,” Gimli laughed heartily, “I’ve never had such a sprite in my bed! Shy, as of yet, but still a wonderful lay.”

Boffin laughed heartily, “I hope you’ll keep this one.”

“Aye,” Gimli grinned, “I’ll be taking him to the late showing at the lower art hall during solstice.”

“Oh, my!” Boffin chuckled, “I hope he’s prepared for dwarrow lewdness. I’ve made a few human’s blush just by mentioning what those displays contain!”

“He’ll be ready by then,” Gimli grinned, “You should have seen him! All that pale flesh!”

“You’re smitten, all right,” Boffin chuckled, “But…”

“But?” Gimli asked.

“Aren’t you setting yourself up for more heartbreak? Cousin, I speak only out of concern. The elf nearly destroyed you. I take it the fellow locked in your bedchambers is a human? You’ll outlive him by a century or more!”

Gimli nodded sadly, “If losing Legolas has taught me anything it’s that I can’t keep what doesn’t want keeping. I’ll take what time and affection my sweet Sora wishes to give me, and then I’ll let him pass on to wherever and whomever he yearns for.”

“So,” Boffin asked with a raised eyebrow, “A bath?”

“And a long nap. Then a few hours of kissing and petting. Then a few minutes of frantic frotting. He comes like a fountain whenever I look at him!”

“The young ones are such a breath of fresh air,” Boffin chuckled, “So is he still locked in your chambers? One of your chattier servants told me he was asking to leave and you refusing him.”

Boffin gave Gimli a worried look that Gimli answered with a reassuring smile.

“My lover is off collecting wood to make pretty things,” Gimli chuckled, “I’ve not lost my mind over a pretty face! He’ll return on the marrow to teach my little Sofia to play the harp.”

“You think he’ll return?”

“He gave me his word,” Gimli replied, “He’ll come back. Now. On to business! What news from Moria?”

“Gandalf spoke the truth,” Boffin replied, “There was indeed some fell angel in Moria ridding it of orcs and trolls.”

“Then my brother’s tomb?”

“Cleaned!” Boffin replied with eyebrows raised, “Practically turned into a shrine! Never have the halls looked so perfect.”

“How could _one elf_ do what an army of dwarrow could not?” Gimli asked.

“Gandalf called it ‘sneak attacks’. He said your fair friend was slipping into their homes, rigging explosives with long fuses, and slipping back out. They were mostly killed in their sleep.”

“A rather dishonourable way to do battle, but fitting for orcs, I suppose,” Gimli replied with a frown.

“He didn’t kill them all. The rest seem to have fled, believing the ghost of the fire demon was haunting the caverns if what crude evidence left behind has been interpreted correctly.”

“Could it have been?”

“No,” Boffin shook his head, “No sign of anything in those caverns save a single remaining camp of orcs. We took them out. Moria is reclaimed with out a single drop of dwarrow blood spilled.”

“How… anticlimactic,” Gimli muttered, “What of the elves?”

“Those we sent to Mirkwood have returned unharmed as well, and this time they came with a _bit_ more information. One of them got it into his mind to have a few drinks with some elvish friends of his and started up a conversation about honourable deaths. He fed them a few of our tales- both old and new- and then asked about theirs.”

“And?”

“It seems they had quite a lot, so he went back for nights on end. Then he breached the subject of _dishonourable_ deaths.”

“ _And?!_ ” Gimli asked, leaning forward eagerly. His youngest brother stroked his thin beard and smirked.

“They gave. They told him a tale you have to hear for yourself. Send in Fili!”

Gimli winced at the name. They had become too popular after the famed death of young Fili and Kili. He would rather his people had waited a few generations before resurfacing those names. Young Fili strode into the court with a proud swagger and a red nose. He was fond of his drink… or his spying had cost him part of his liver.

“Sire,” Fili bowed low, hood scraping the floor.

Gimli nodded, “I understand you have a story to tell me.”

“I’ll tell it how it was related to me,” Fili stated, then sank down into a chair and slowly lit a pipe for dramatic flair. Gimli and Boffin glanced at each other in amusement and then sat back to wait in their respective chairs.

_A fair elvish prince, beautiful in word and brave in deed, returned from many heroic battles seeking to heal the earth. At first he was successful. He planted many trees, coaxed flowers to bloom in blood-soaked soil, and even rebuilt the bridge between elves and dwarrow. He was honoured amongst his people, but a great taint lay within him. His tongue became loose, and he spoke of a type of love that was unnatural and foul._

_His father protested his infatuation when the young man begged to go to his beloved, convincing him to instead retire to the Undying Lands to be plagued by evil thoughts no more. The prince relented and left at once, fearing for his immortality, but the Lady Galadriel knew his wickedness and stopped him from setting foot on the Immortal Shores._

_The prince returned in shame and begged his father once again to see that his evil was in fact beautiful, but the king turned away from him in disgust. He advised his son to work his wickedness off until Galadriel saw fit to allow him into the Undying Lands. Sadly, news of his foul desires had reached the other elves and all turned him away! He could not even share a drink with his fellow fair beings. The prince was even turned from his own halls where he might have one day been crowned king. Wretched and alone, he turned to his childhood friends for comfort, but the husband of one saw his evil and an equal wickedness awoke in him. He sought to lure the prince into his bed, whispering that if his unnatural love were only turned to his own kind that it might be allowed. The prince nearly relented, but at the last moment he fled the arms of the wretch and was dealt a painful blow. He turned to defend himself, not knowing that the wife of the dark elf had witnessed their deceit, and when they each reacted at the same moment the wicked elf was struck a mortal blow._

_Shamed, the prince took on the full measure of guilt, claiming that his childhood friend could not be judged by her actions. The courts of the elven King passed down their heaviest sentence and he was banished from all elven lands, never to return to his own kind again. Defeated in body and mind, the elf prince stole away to become a drudge of the very creatures he had wished to mate with, his eyes never to see sunlight again._

“Tauriel’s husband,” Gimli sighed, shaking his head, “I sensed the lad was harbouring a desire for the flesh of men, but I’d no idea he’d react so violently. It’s no shock, though. I can hardly blame him. If I were forced to lie, to marry and bed a woman! The thought rankles. It’s a wonder it didn’t drive him mad sooner. And my poor Legolas! To be torn so! To be given a choice that was no choice at all!”

Boffin and Fili both stared down at the ground in solemn silence, absorbing the horror of the elf prince’s fall from grace.

“What can we do for him?” Boffin asked.

“Nothing,” Gimli sighed, “His own people won’t even acknowledge that he _ever_ existed. We can only give him acceptance here, for what little comfort that may give him.”

“After what he’s endured,” Fili observed, “It may well be a great comfort to him.”

Gimli stood, pacing the floor in consideration, “I can’t give up on him. Not yet. If the story holds true then there _was_ no woman he fell in love with.”

“He told you thus?” Boffin asked.

“He did,” Gimli sighed, “I believed it was to keep me at bay. Now I know that to be true. He’s so lost, so confused and hurt. I can’t think of a way to sooth him!”

“My Lord…” Boffin started, and Gimli took heed because when Boffin was proper towards him it often meant he’d thought up something quite serious, “You have a new love. Legolas abandoned you rather than accept you ages ago, giving you the same treatment his people gave him. Perhaps it is better to let your wounds heal with this new young man. Legolas is free of his people. He can make his own decisions now. Let him pass into memory and focus on the future. Too long has your love for him kept you from celebrating the life you have made here!”

Gimli slid down into his chair with a heavy sighed, “You’re right, of course. Legolas has still refused me, even now. I’ve tried to tell him I still adore him, but he only pulls away. Sora is shy but ready to give me his love. I have to move on.”

Boffin and Fili both looked relieved, which surprised Gimli as he’d never spoken to Fili before now. Was his misery this well known amongst his people? He watched silently as Fili took his leave with a happy step, clearly eased of burden and proud of his hard work.

“Boffin,” Gimli called softly, drawing the studious dwarf from his work at a nearby desk, “How many of my people are aware of my infatuation with Legolas?”

“All of them, I imagine,” Boffin replied casually, “Even the humans have tales of your ‘forbidden love’. For a time it became fashionable for bearded men to woo their ladies by sending them carvings of elf ears to symbolize their love for them would transcend all.”

Gimli groaned, “And how many are aware that I had a human in my bedchambers all yesterday and last night?”

Boffin snorted, “You underestimate the ability of rumours to grow wings and fly. By this time tomorrow the King of Gondor will know you’ve found a new infatuation.”

“I’ve had other lovers,” Gimli muttered, “Why is this one different?”

“First because you dropped everything to attend to him,” Boffin chuckled, “Second because you just told one of our spies that you love him.”

“I… well… he’s one of my trusted men!”

“He spies on people for money,” Boffin snickered, “You think he’s _trustworthy_?”

Gimli groaned and sank down in his chair. He hoped Legolas and Sora were prepared for the outpouring of madness that was about to follow.

XXX

Legolas was sitting in his stall carving away at his latest sculpture, close detail of Gimli’s face while in the throes of passion. It wasn’t far enough that he felt he should hide it. Gimli had invited ‘Sora’ to an erotic art exhibit on the Winter Solstice and he was fantasizing about entering a piece. He wouldn’t, of course, but it was still fun to imagine it. He was both terrified and excited. Their time together- that had caused him to miss his shift on guard duty- had been unbelievably satisfying and tender. Gimli had clearly sensed an undercurrent of who he was even if he hadn’t figured out that Sora and Legolas were one and the same. He was drawn to ‘Sora’ and had displayed unbelievable affection. Legolas had gone into this expecting a quick filthy shag and had come out of it with everything he’d ever wanted… if under a different name. He would pay for missing his shift, but that was the least of his concerns at this point.

Legolas glanced up between work on his sculpture, and was becoming gradually more uneasy. People kept stopping at his stall, but they were staring at _him_ rather than at his work. That wasn’t unusual seeing as he was new to the area, but when he approached them to converse they were more insistent and prying than they had been for the first month he’d inhabited his stall. Some were downright _hostile_.

“Where did you say you were from?”

“Where did you train?”

“Will you be here long?”

“How old are you, dear?”

“Do you have family in Helm’s Deep?”

Legolas was completely confused by all the sudden and intent attention. He did his best to smile and reassure them, but without knowing what had aroused their suspicions the most he could do was stick to his lies. He just hoped the unusual amount of concern for his lineage didn’t get back to Aragorn as he was sure to inspect claims of relation to his person from a person he’d never heard of. Legolas thought he could fool a footman well enough, but eventually Aragorn would visit and the jig might be up. He just hoped he would hear about it in advance so he could make up an excuse to disappear and just be Legolas for the duration.

“Well met, sir,” A voice called and Legolas looked up with an eager smile. This person was actually looking at his sculptures.

“Well met, friend,” Legolas smiled.

“You’re Sora, aren’t you?” The woman asked, raising her eyes to meet those of Legolas.

“I… yes,” Legolas sighed, “You aren’t here to buy anything, are you?”

“Of course I am,” She replied, picking up the nearest item.

It was a half finished piece that was on display to show his method. Legolas plucked it from her hand and put it back, feeling his temper rise, “Everyone who has stopped at my stall today has bought something and paid for it with gold and insistent questions. I’d rather my art was bought because it caught your eye, not because you thought it polite to pay me for my answers!”

The woman folded her arms and cocked her head to one side, “Very well, I’ll be direct. What are your intentions with Lord Gimli?”

“Lord Gimli?” He asked, blinking in surprise, “Is that what this is about? How is it _anyone’s_ business? How are all of you even _aware_ of it! He’s had many lovers, none have drawn this attention that I’ve seen.”

“None have drawn _his_ attention, and I assure you we have every right to be concerned! His last infatuation lasted decades and left him heartbroken!”

“I’d not heard of that,” Legolas admitted.

“An elf brat bewitched him and then left our shores without even bidding him farewell! He wept for days!” The woman stated, eyes damp with unshed tears, “Then he had the nerve to show up begging for favours! Those of us who live here in Helm’s Deep were orphans or children whose parents were too injured to leave after the battle. Nearly all of us were orphans by the time we tried to return home. When we went to return to our birthrights our lands had been taken by our neighbours who claimed they thought us dead! We lost _everything_. We returned here to survive the winter, many not managing to do so, and began to plant fields using the last of our stores come spring. Lord Gimli came to claim his gift of the Glistening Caves from Lord Aragorn and saw our plight. He called for more supplies and gave to us what he could. He hunted and ploughed with us until succour arrived. Despite the fact this fort was given to the dwarrow he welcomed our distant kin when they came here seeking us. We love our liege lord. He is fair and cares for the people. He treats humans and dwarrow as equals. No other save King Isildur himself is as noble and kind!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Legolas replied softly, “He has enchanted me. It has been far too long since I felt safe someplace, or with someone.”

The woman stilled, studying Legolas’ face and seeing the truth there. She nodded sharply and dropped her eyes to the contents of his stall. She picked up a pipe that he had carved. It resembled Mithrandir’s pipe and he had made it with much love and care.

“You are very talented,” She stated, holding out her coin, “This will make the perfect gift for my son this Solstice. I hope to see you at the festivities, Master Sora.”

Legolas nodded and accepted the coin with a bow, “I’ve not caught your name, friend.”

A smirk blossomed across her face, “Sora is my name as well.”

“It is?” Legolas blushed, “I’ve not heard of a woman by that name.”

“No? It’s generally a woman’s name amongst humans.”

Without any further indication of whether or not she knew the truth she turned and left with a friendly wave. Legolas stood there with his face a brilliant shade of red and worry twisting his gut. For the next hour nothing changed, but then quite suddenly the curious stares changed to friendly smiles. People passed and waved to him cheerily.

“Rumours do have wings,” Legolas told his carving.

XXX

“I don’t care who you were,” Captain Rustle snarled, “I don’t care who you know. You shiv off guard duty again and I’ll take you up to the walls and find out if elves always land on their feet or not! Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, sir.”

“How you ever managed to save anyone or anything without having your hand held I’ll never know!”

Legolas gripped his bow tighter, “I let my record stand. The tales know of my abilities. I apologize for missing my shift. It is unforgivable and I have no excuse.”

“So you’ve said. Twice! Except it took the king to find you this post and the king to pry your arse out of bed to go to it! Let me guess? He was too busy with his new flame to coax you into pulling your weight?”

Legolas refrained from grinding his teeth, “It will not happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t!”

XXX

“Sora!” Gimli exclaimed cheerfully when he stepped into the grand hall, “A pleasure, my dear! Come in! This is my youngest brother Boffin. Boffin, this is Sora of the Dúnedain.”

“Oh my,” Boffin stammered, “You’re… good day, Master Sora.”

“Good day, Master Boffin,” Legolas replied, shaking the dwarf’s hand amicably even as he worried about the way he’d been greeted.

“Forgive my brother,” Gimli chuckled, “I think he was expecting a human who was less fair than you are.”

“Quite a bit less fair,” Boffin chuckled, “If you’ve met our women you’ll understand why.”

“I confess I sometimes can’t tell them from the gentlemen,” Legolas replied honestly.

Boffin laughed, “Neither can we! That’s the whole point!”

They all shared a laugh, but Legolas was positive they were joking about not being able to tell.

“So what brings you here, Master Sora?”

“My Lord requested music lessons of me,” Legolas replied with a smile.

“Eh?” Boffin grunted, glancing at Gimli, “There’s an instrument you actually wish to play? Or was that some human term for todger handling?”

“The harp,” Legolas smiled at the same time Gimli spat out, “It’s for my daughter!”

“You’re learning for your daughter?” Legolas smiled at him, “That’s so… sweet! And wholly unlike you.”

“What do you know of what I’m like?” Gimli snapped, “And the _lessons_ are for my daughter, not the learning.”

“I’m… I’m to teach your daughter?” Legolas asked in surprise.

“Of course,” Gimli chuckled, “What would I want to learn a harp the size of my hand for?”

Gimli turned, gesturing to ‘Sora’ to follow him, and led the confused elf through the caves many passages until he reached a wooden home standing on sticks. The reason why soon became obvious when they entered from beneath it. The majority of the home was in a cavern beneath it with the second story functioning as an addition to the two story home within the walls of the cave. It was warm and cozy inside, the walls covered with hangings depicting fairy tales and dwarrow daily life. Two children played on the floor, laughing as they built up a set of blocks and then knocked them down. Legolas stared down at them, the eldest hopping to her feet to greet Gimli.

“Papa!” She shouted, throwing her arms around his knees, “I’m ready for my lesson! Mama sang me _so_ many songs!”

“And ye still want to learn?!” Gimli asked, “Are ye sure she didn’t deafen you?”

“Gimli you boar!” Merda laughed, walking into the room with a dish in one hand and a towel in the other. She had soap bubbles on her cheek.

“Merda this is Sora,” Gimli introduced, “Sora this is my dear friend and the mother of my children, Merda. We’re unmarried, in case you were wondering. Been some confusion about that recently.”

“The only one confused was your elf,” Merda snorted, “Where is he? I want to braid his pretty hair.”

“Off sleeping, I’d warrant,” Gimli replied, “He’s still on night duty. Sora my wee lass here is keen to learn that instrument I bought from you… or so she says, but I don’t see it anywhere…”

The dwarf girl bolted through the chamber her mother had came from and the sound of stomping feet led upward before vanishing amongst the thin walls. When they returned they moved slower and she held in her arms his small harp. It had fewer strings than even a lap harp, but was playable for simple tunes. He’d meant it to be more for show than for actual play, but it was capable of it and would make a suitable child’s starter instrument.

“I will need to be free of distraction,” Legolas pointed out, and Gimli nodded, “You’ll take her to the music hall. I’ll show you the way.”

Gimli led them on and Legolas resigned himself to a miserable hour of lessons with a hyper child. He’d never dealt well with children, not even elven ones, and had shunned Gimli’s since arriving. They entered the chambers where instruments lined the walls and one beautiful harpsichord stood in the centre. This was a side of the dwarrow he had never seen! He admired it for a moment until Gimli cleared his throat and the child giggled.

“Right,” Legolas stated, “Pull over that chair now and we’ll get started.”

Legolas instructed her in holding the instrument first, stopping her every time she tried to pluck dischordant notes on it. He quickly had a vicious headache but there was not much he could do for it at the moment. Gimli remained and that alone kept him from snapping at her to take up a sword instead, as she’d clearly not inherited musical talent from either parent. He continued to coax her until he had managed to instruct her on tuning the harp. Once done he showed her how to strum her first chord, and was rewarded with an ear piercing squeal of delight.

“I did it, papa! I did it! Did you see me! Did you hear! So pretty!”

“Yes, my darling,” Gimli replied fondly, “Well done.”

Legolas took a deep breath and sat back down in his chair before attempting to move on with the lesson, but she was quite distracted and Gimli was apparently _not_ going to step in to discipline her. When she nearly dumped the harp on the ground he grabbed it with one hand and her arm with another.

“Now listen here…!” Legolas started, and then stopped. He didn’t know her name. He’d lived in his best friend’s halls for three months and hadn’t learnt his eldest child’s name.

“Merla,” Gimli supplied softly, “Her name is Merla, daughter of Merda.”

Legolas calmed himself and nodded to Gimli gratefully, “Merla, daughter of Merda, listen to me carefully. A harp is a delicate instrument. If it falls to the ground it will break. If you pluck it to hard the string will snap, and if that happens they may cut your hand or even your cheek if you hold it too closely. It is meant to be cradled like your dolls and stroked like your pets. You have a pet, don’t you?”

“Papa gave me a monitor lizard.”

Legolas blinked. He glanced up at his friend to see if this was one of those childish fibs, but he was grinning proudly. Of _course_ he’d given his daughter a lizard larger than she with a bite that could kill to be her pet!

“Well… avoid dropping it as you would avoid your pet’s mouth.”

“Archibald has stinky breath.”

“Archibald?”

“My monitor lizard. His name is Archibald. Papa says that’s not a proper name, but Mama let me pick it and she says it’s delightful.”

“I think it rather suits a monitor lizard,” Legolas decided, “Now, shall we try again?”

“Yes, please!”

The lesson went better after that, their heads pressed together as she explored her instrument curiously. By the time they finished over an hour had passed and Legolas was growing fond of his perky pupil. Finally she was sent scampering home, with her harp held carefully in her arms.

“You managed her well,” Gimli stated with a smile.

“She’ll have forgotten everything I taught her by next week,” Legolas replied.

“Aye, but she’ll remember _you_.”

Just then the lass burst back into the chamber, catching Legolas just before he could reach out to touch Gimli’s face. He jerked his arm back in alarm and turned to face her anxiously.

“I forgot,” she smiled, “I wanted to ask if you’re going to be my Da?”

Legolas blinked, then gestured at Gimli, “Isn’t he…”

“He’s my Papa, but Mama told me that Papa likes boys so someday I’ll have a Da as well as a Mama and a Papa.”

“How old are you?” Legolas asked in alarm.

“She’s only just figuring out the difference,” Gimli chuckled, “She asks this of everyone she sees me hanging about. She’s asked my own brother _twice_. Come on now Merla, back to your mother and stop terrifying the man I’m courting. Children!”

Legolas waited while Merla was ushered away and then was pulled into Gimli’s grasp for a hungry kiss.

“Ah, that was far too long a wait,” Gimli sighed.

“Yet I must go,” Legolas replied sadly, “I have other clients and have already neglected them to bask in your fine bed.”

“I would have you in my bed again tonight.”

“I can not.”

“Come, make your excuses!”

“I swear to you, if I could, I would!” Legolas laughed, “I must be on my way.”

He turned to leave but Gimli snatched him back, “Let me walk you to your stall.”

Legolas held back a groan of frustration. He was tired. He wanted rest, not to walk the long way back to his stall, back to the closet in the caves he changed in, and then back to his rooms once more! He was bone tired from weeks of living two lives.

“I… I’ll be going to a client’s home…”

“I’ll walk you there, then.”

“I’m sorry, sire.”

Gimli’s eyes shifted and he nodded his head, “Just that once then, was it?”

“Sorry?”

“Be straight with me, Sora. Do you want this thing between us to continue?”

“Yes!” Legolas stammered in shock, “Yes, I swear I do! I truly have other duties to attend to! Sire…”

“Gimli,” Gimli corrected, “When we’re alone I have a _name_ , not a title.”

“I have both as well,” Legolas reminded, “I have those who rely on me and I mustn’t turn my back on them just as you must see to your people.”

“When?” Gimli asked, “When will you have time for me? As you’ve just pointed out I can only take so much time to chase _you_.”

“I’ll… I’ll make the time. Next week.”

“After Merla’s lesson?”

“Every day. Just give me time to tie up some loose ends and I will clear my schedule for you.”

Gimli nodded, “Very well. Come and kiss me farewell, my sweet.”

Legolas smiled in relief and leaned down for a slow kiss, the drag of lips and scratch of whiskers sending shivers down Legolas’ back. He stepped away first, knowing if he let it continue he’d never leave.

“Until we meet again,” Legolas whispered.

“Until then,” Gimli nodded.

Legolas all but fled the room. He had a life to end, and he’d just decided on which one.


	9. Chapter 9

“Pathetic,” The captain stated when Legolas turned in his resignation. Since he had the key to Gimli’s suite he’d simply borrowed his stamp and filled out the release of duty himself. Gimli didn’t know yet, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. For now he was staring at the back of the captain and fighting a serious impulse to challenge him in some way. It was best for everyone if Legolas Greenleaf the Elf simply faded away, so he swallowed his ire and turned to leave.

“Not even going to try, eh? I guess it’s true what they said about you,” The captain chuckled, his back still to Legolas.

“It’s hardly my concern what others say of me.”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” The captain snarled, finally turning to face him with violence in his eyes, “Then you’d have to answer to all the harm you’ve caused.”

“I’ve caused no harm that I know of while here.”

“No, you caused it while you were _away_ , and conveniently not having to see the results.”

“Everyone seems of that opinion,” Legolas replied, “Yet I’ve been given no examples. Perhaps you will enlighten me.”

“What you’ve done has no physical evidence save the agony in our Lord’s eyes. Be gone, and this time take the time to bid Lord Gimli farewell. _Coward_.”

“I’m no coward,” Legolas replied, eyes flashing angrily, “I have a different path than the one he wished me to follow. Would you let someone else set out your destiny?”

“No, but you have.”

“Loving him has cost me everything!” Legolas snapped angrily.

“No,” The captain sneered, “ _Running_ from him has cost you everything. Your elven friends and family were _always_ going to be bastards, but if you’d stayed you’d have had _him_.”

“You can’t know that,” Legolas replied, “Even those with the gift of foresight do not know such things for certain.”

“No?” The man scoffed, “I thought you made your _own_ destiny?”

He turned his back on him and Legolas struggled with himself once again, but this wasn’t a physical fight. He couldn’t prove his strength or bravery by pummelling this man, not the kind of fortitude that he thought Legolas lacked. Besides, it was entirely possible that he was _right,_ and that rankled far more than his words did. Legolas turned and left, heading for the cupboard he used to change into Sora one last time.

XXX

Gimli sighed as he looked down from his thrown at Captain Rustle. The human guard had interrupted a meeting, demanding to speak to Gimli alone and insisting it was of utmost importance.

“You can still stop him, my Lord,” Rustle insisted, “He told me he loves you. His own words!”

“Captain, this is _highly_ irregular _,”_ Gimli blustered uncomfortably, “You interrupted an important discussion on crops to interfere in my _love life_?”

“We all wish to see you happy, my Lord,” Rustle replied, his tone pleading, “He had flight written all over his face. If you just stop him! Step in! _Order_ him to stay!”

“One does not order Legolas Greenleaf,” Gimli chuckled, “Not without having full armour on.”

“I’ve found him less imposing,” Captain Rustle replied through clenched teeth.

“I imagine you have,” Gimli replied in amusement, “He treats men the way you would treat children: with inhuman feats of patience and tolerance. I’m sure he was merely sparing your snarly life. You should thank him should you live long enough to see him again.”

“I fear that even you may not,” Rustle replied, “He forged your name, of that I’m sure! He means to leave here without even speaking to you!”

“May he find peace, then,” Gimli replied softly.

“Sire?” Rustle asked.

“He is _tortured_ , Rustle son of Leed. Staying here has caused him more pain than I can stand to see in his eyes. He longs for me and hates what I have cost him at the same time. He wants the life I have- children and close friends- but knows that he can never have that if he continues to love me. Our love was doomed from the start.”

“I never thought I’d hear such defeatist words from you!” Rustle spat out, then bowed his head and muttered an apology.

“It’s he you owe an apology to,” Gimli replied, “You think I am unaware of your treatment of him? Legolas is no coward. I know few men who have the strength to defy every convention of their people, turn their backs on their kin, and perform acts that they have been taught are debasing in order to persue a love that would cost them their lives. You may well ask troll to marry an ent and live forever in the sunlight!”

“But… sire… he broke your heart…”

“Aye, and I broke his,” Gimli replied, “There were two at work in that mess, not that it concerns you. Besides, you forget that his father is a true bastard. He stands between us as _both…_ Sora! Stop hiding in the shadows.”

Rustle stood in alarm and spun to stare at Sora as he stepped from the shadows. Gimli hadn’t heard him approach either, but he’d sensed his presence nonetheless. He could feel him the way he felt a cool breeze that would lead to fresh air in a darkened tunnel. Sora gave him an embarrassed look.

“You told me to give you some of my time… I made some…”

“And you are well met, my dear!” Gimli smiled, “Come here by my side. Rustle, this is Sora of the Dúnedain, a merchant and musician.”

Rustle stared at the young man by his Lord’s side and tried to reconcile what he saw there. Adoration. Love. Fondness. It was the same look his Lord bestowed upon the elf! The young man did look quite like him, in fact he was so much like him that Rustle was tempted to pull his hair aside and peer at his ears. The Lord would surely know, wouldn’t he? Or was this…

Rustle’s eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. Legolas was less of a coward than he’d thought. He’d found a way around the stricture of the elves, a way to love and be true to himself without incurring the wrath of his people. He’d become someone else, and in doing so he had killed his former self. Legolas no longer existed except in the new personality of _Sora_!

“I thought this _Legolas_ was out of your life,” Legolas stated, his tone jealous.

“Aye, he is,” Gimli replied, “Apparently he’s fleeing tonight. I found his key to my chambers sitting on my pillow this morning- not that there was anything intimate between us. I’m all yours, my dear.”

Gimli held out his hand and Legolas took it, raising his fingers to his lips to kiss his rings. Gimli smiled fondly and tugged him closer for a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Off with you Rustle, I’ve a meeting to finish. Sora, my dear. Make use of the music room or join us in my counsel chambers as you see fit. I may be some hours longer, but after that we shall dine together.”

“Yes, my Lord,” They both echoed. Legolas followed the Lord while Rustle hesitantly walked towards the exit, glancing over his shoulders in surprise. His Lord’s disregard for his friend was evidence enough. He knew who this ‘man’ really was and was embracing their sole chance to be together without causing strife between their kingdoms. Resigned, Rustle sent a blessing whispered after them, “Luck and happiness to you both.”

XXX

Legolas perched on a small stool beside Gimli, softly strumming a lyre as Gimli discussed various issues with him. Occasionally he would pipe up with a delicately spoken suggestion. Gimli’s advisers seemed rankled at the presence of a lover in their debate, but his advice was either taken or dismissed on its merits by their Lord. The men had an advocate there, the Master of the Fort who worked with Gimli to run both sides of their small world. Legolas had not met him before so he was giving him suspicious looks. Finally he spoke up.

“Who did you say you were? I thought I knew everyone who lived in this Fort,” Master Varamir stated with narrowed eyes.

“Sora of the Dúnedain,” Legolas replied without missing a beat on his lyre, “I’ve been in Helm’s Deep about a month. Mostly I use up your supplies of firewood to carve sculptures, musical instruments, and the odd useful device. Likely they will end up back in the fires once the snow rolls in.”

“Snow that will be coming soon,” Gimli reminded, “Within the next few days, and we have more mouths to feed than ever before. Our trade with the elves has gone well, but not necessarily _evenly_. We can’t survive on wine and bows, lest we use the latter for fuel.”

“I still say we stop dealing with them entirely,” Varamir stated, “They can supply us with nothing we need, as you’ve just mentioned.”

“Aye, but they are excellent allies,” Gimli reminded, “They have come to the aid of men many times. We must keep them playcated. Just because Sauron is defeated doesn’t mean that we can rest easy. His scourge still exists and are breeding beneath the earth. While it is clear they are waiting to make their move, I look to the future rather than the present. I may not be as farsighted as the elves are, but I’m fully aware that what doesn’t seem harmful now may well wipe your grandchildren from all memory on Middle Earth.”

“I thought the elves were retreating back over the sea?” One adviser wondered.

“Most have,” Legolas replied, “Only the Mirkwood elves remain. Rivendell is all but emptied, most feeling… their… purpose on these shores has dwindled.”

“Will the Mirkwood silvan leave?” Gimli asked.

“Not for many centuries,” Legolas replied, “They are more wild than their kin across the mountain and enjoy the fruits of men far more. I suspect Thranduil himself will never return to the Undying Lands, having lost his beloved on these shores.”

“There you have it,” Gimli nodded, “Even the alliance of one elf is worth our trouble.”

“But not our _starvation_ ,” Varamir reminded.

“No, never that,” Gimli nodded, “Then we are in agreement? We send notice that the latest caravan won’t be coming?”

Several leaned forward in preparation of a vote, but Legolas spoke up once again.

“Sire, perhaps there is a compromise. Your agreement with the elves was for foods that they do not have in their woods, but what of _other_ things that they can not find for themselves?”

“What other things?” Gimli snorted, “They care not for jewels, and their crafts they feel more worthy than ours.”

“You were describing your waste removal systems to me…” Legolas suggested.

“The elves don’t have this?” Gimli asked, raising an eyebrow, “Their homes seemed clean enough when I visited them in Lothlorien.”

“Lothlorien lives on aqueducts,” Legolas supplied, “A proper use in a world where their homes are above the trees. However, Mirkwood is a cavern home as this one is, though much different in design.”

“Aye, my cousins mentioned that they had holes in them like beehives to let the sun in.”

“Yes, and the _smell_ out,” Legolas chuckled, “They still struggle by with an adaptation of aqueducts. It is less efficient inside of caverns that they hesitate to delve into, and often needs repair and replacement. Yet they do not develop something new because elves tend to live the same way for centuries, turning their mind towards their craft and song rather than common invention.”

“So they’d benefit from this…”

“ _Enormously_ ,” Legolas chuckled, “They’d owe _you_ for a change.”

“By Durin, I like the sound of that!” Gimli boomed.

“They _do_ have things besides wine and songs to trade. What of their medicine? Some can be used on men and dwarves, indeed they would be invaluable over the winter months.”

Gimli clapped Legolas on the back, which again didn’t cause him to miss a note, and happily boomed for them to call in the architect. The meeting went far smoother after that, with many more suggestions. When one dwarf brought up their summer games it was agreed by all that inviting the elves was a brilliant idea. All except ‘Sora’, who sat anxiously by and held his lyre tightly to his chest as he fretted about the coming summer. This time he completely forgot the melody he’d been strumming and the sound of music drifted out of the hall.

XXX

“Sora, try this,” Gimli grinned, pushing food towards him, “It’s dwarrow, but a good deal of the men here have found it delightful.”

Legolas choked the slow-cooked meat down. He’d planned on immersing himself in their culture, but he hadn’t thought out their _food_ tastes. He knew he’d eventually adjust to it, but for now he felt a bit heavy in the gut. He smiled, nodded, and gulped down more water. Gimli was giving him such a mischievous look that Legolas found himself mentally tallying their points once again. Gimli was _decidedly_ winning.

When dinner was through he suggested they walk off their heavy meal. Gimli agreed readily, but being a Lord now he couldn’t very well leave the Fort without a contingent, so they ended up having two guards following after them… thankfully at a distance. Legolas hadn’t left the Fort in the entire time he’d been there. This was, in fact, the first time he’d felt grass beneath his feet in nearly a year. The first step had him stopping dead in his tracks and closing his eyes tightly for a moment. Gimli’s hand slipped around his waist and held him gently until he could move again. Even in the market he’d rarely stepped foot beneath the sunlight, mostly sitting beneath his tarp, and now the setting sun only gently caressed them. It was a beautiful sunset, but mostly obscured by the fort itself. Still, they paused to watch it sink beneath the mountains behind their home.

“There are windows on the other side,” Gimli told him softly, “They see that sunset, but I’ve visited them rarely. They are high up on a sheer cliff face to avoid making our home vulnerable, and covered with a substance called‘glass’ that you men shared with us. It’s the first time I’ve seen men develop something useful.”

Legolas smiled a bit, “Men can be as inventive as dwarrow or as artistic as elves if given the chance. So far we’ve been… _dwarfed_ by you long-living lot.”

Gimli chuckled. Score Legolas a point at last!

The sun finally drifted out of sight, leaving their area in a state of twilight that wasn’t quite night time as a few rays winked over the mountain. Legolas sighed fondly and leaned into Gimli’s sturdy frame. Gimli gave his hip a tight squeeze and turned them to continue their walk. Legolas let himself relax into their walk, legs feeling the stretch of earth for the first time in too long. His heart soared and then began to pound in longing. He wanted to _run!_ He wanted to feel the wind in his hair and the pound of the soft earth beneath his feet. He wanted to kick up the winter tundra and smell the spores in the air. He kept it tightly in check, but was tense as a spring deep inside his elven body.

“Go,” Gimli whispered beside him.

It was as if he were a horse suddenly delt a sharp strike by a crop. He bolted from Gimli’s side, long legs burning from disuse. Behind him Gimli let out a whoop of encouragement that Legolas echoed with a sharp laugh and a mock battle cry. He turned a few cartwheels and then scrambled up a tree with a grace he’d nearly forgotten. Gimli clapped behind him and the dwarrow who guarded their safe passage laughed and shouted a few encouraging words. Legolas swung from one branch to another, hanging upside down and laughing as his brown curls tickled his face. He let himself drop and landed on his hands, walking a few paces before dropping backwards onto his feet.

Legolas was about to bolt back to Gimli’s side, surprised at how far he’d run, when a motion caught his attention. He turned his head and narrowly avoided an arrow that embedded itself in the tree beside him. Black bodies swarmed over the rocks and out of the bushes some four hundred yards off. Legolas pulled out his carving knife, fully prepared to fight to the death, and then recalled Gimli. His dwarrow friend stood as the king on the chessboard of life, the reason for both white and black players to work together against the common foe of Sauron’s remaining players. He could _not_ be put in danger, no matter his valiant skill in battle.

“Flee!” Legolas shouted, turning and bolting back towards them, “Sound the horns! Get the Lord to safety! We are besieged!”

 


	10. Chapter 10

Dwarrow were sturdy and powerful, running fast for long distances was their forte. Still, it was not in their nature to flee, so it was necessary for Legolas to practically drag Gimli back towards the gates. One of the guards had sounded a warning cry on his horn that had been taken up by horns in Helm’s Deep. They did not yet sound the great Horn or light the fires that would summon help, not until they knew what they faced. Gimli re-entered the first gates while still spoiling for battle, but by the time Legolas had dragged him through the second set and they had swung shut behind them he was reduced to grumbling angrily.

“Think of your children,” Legolas insisted, “Would you orphan them so young?”

“I would leave them tales to live by!” Gimli roared.

“Then at least arm yourself first! Would you face them with just your travel axe?”

“It’s sharp enough to do them in!”

“And short enough to do you in!” Legolas snapped, “To arms, my Lord!”

“Fine!” Gimli shouted, “Spare me the womanly nagging!”

Gimli stomped off to his armoury, shouting instructions as he went. The captain took his place rallying the troops when Gimli disappeared into his tunnels. All the women (those who didn’t fight) and children would be fleeing into the caves while the dwarrow poured out. There was an entrance for each to occur so there wasn’t any crowding. Legolas hurried after the humans who were not in the guard regimen. He had no proper weapons anymore. He had abandoned all that remained of his former self, including those. He joined the farmers in the armoury, loading weapons onto their backs. They were sadly inferior to those he had donned in the past, but he would make due. At least he had a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Legolas took himself up to the highest peaks and they looked down at the darkened world below. Nothing moved. Gimli joined him soon enough and the captain was on his heals. For over an hour they waited, deep into a moonless night. Not a glimmer of fire was seen below though it was bitterly cold.

“What do you see?” Gimli whispered softly, taking up a spot that allowed him to peer out between the battlements.

“Nothing,” Legolas replied, “There is no movement. I thought I heard a sound as of a cry of pain, but nothing else.”

“Perhaps there were only a few?” Gimli asked, “And they fled once they saw we were prepared?”

“No, I saw at least a hundred, and they had not finished swarming by the time I turned to you.”

“How many did you see, sire?” Rustle asked.

“I saw none,” Gimli admitted, “Though Sora was further ahead of me and night was falling.”

No one voiced what many were thinking; that ‘Sora’ had seen what only he could see. A figment of his imagination.

“We’ll investigate tomorrow at dawn,” Gimli muttered, “For now double the guard and send everyone back to their beds.”

Legolas left with doubt in his heart. He’d spent so much time drifting towards madness in the mines of Moria before taking the time here to change himself into another person.

_Am I going mad?_

  
“Come to bed, love,” Gimli spoke softly, taking Legolas’ hand and leading him away.

They crawled into a cold bed, the staff to busy with the false alarm to have time to heat it for them or even light the fireplace, and shivered in each other’s arms. Eventually they slid out of their clothes and pressed tightly together, lips and hands exploring bodies that should have known each other better. Legolas was soon reduced to sharp cries of passion. Gimli pressed him into the bedding and ground their erections together, groaning in pleasure as he jerked his hips into Legolas’ lithe body. The elf couldn’t help but to tug at Gimli’s hair as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his seed spilling out between them to slick the way. Gimli eagerly sped up, grunting as he chased his release. With an eager growl he came hard against Legolas, grasping the thinner man’s arse to grind him tightly against him.

“Each of my cheeks fits in one of your hands,” Legolas panted, “They are deceptively large.”

“You know what they say about dwarrow with big hands, don’t you?”

“Do I want to know?” Legolas smiled into the darkness as Gimli gently cleaned his flaccid cock.

“Full purses,” Gimli chuckled.

“Is that a play on words?”

“Depends,” Gimli pulled Legolas against him as he laid back on the bed. Legolas snuggled against his side and threw a leg over his lover’s legs.

“On?”

“On whether or not you’re talking to a male or female dwarf!” Gimli laughed, “We tend to get drawn into our mining, sometimes to the point we disregard our mates. Our womenfolk often say in despairing tones that their husband’s have two full purses but only use one.”

Legolas chuckled and reached down to fondle Gimli’s relaxed ‘purse’, “I’d say yours is empty now.”

“Keep fondling it and you’ll find out how quickly I can fill it back up!”

Legolas chuckled and relaxed against his lover, but his mind was too uneasy to sleep that night. He spent it listening to Gimli snore contentedly while puzzling out what he had seen in the rolling hills of Helm’s deep in front of the Hornburg. Had it been a trick of the fading light? He was certain he had nearly been shot! He was less certain of what he had seen thereafter.

When dawn came Legolas joined the small armed party that went out to study the area around them. Gone was the arrow, but the hole it had pierced into the tree was still visible. Legolas drew their attention to it, but was less than convincing as he tried to explain that _this_ hole amongst the many others was fresh and why. They scoured the hill he’d seen the enemy pour over, and found it much roughened… by what appared to be hooves.

“Here is your mystery,” Rustle chuckled, “Some of the horses of must have broken their paddock and ran towards what they thought was a friend! You chased them off with your shouting, Master Sora.”

“I tell you, I was _shot at_ ,” Legolas insisted.

“Perhaps a branch flew down…” Rustle started.

“Perhaps we should check on _the horses_ ,” Gimli snapped, “I’ll go as well.”

“The horses usually shy from dwarrow…” Rustle mentioned carefully.

“I’ve ridden before. Lead on,” Gimli replied.

The horses had a series of fields all to their own, mostly left to run wild, as Rohirrhim horses were want. They would come when called, responding to specific horns, and knew to flee to safety when they were called to the Hornburg within Helm’s Deep. The denizens of Helm’s Deep had few horses despite being mostly Eorlings, that was mostly due to the fact the hills around were not friendly to those with four hoofed legs. Those few fields had those who attended them in shifts, who also served as sentries and guarded the fields from their high stone towers. These towers were as those in legends, with hidden doors used only in emergency. The main way to enter was to have an occupant throw down a rope so one could scale to a window just large enough for a man in armour to fit through. Hot oil could be poured from above that window to keep out any who thought a ladder was an option.

The party approached the east tower and stared up at it’s silent windows. A horn was blown and an answer heard. A rope was tossed down and Rustle stepped forward to climb up.

“I’ll ask them if they’ve seen…”

“No,” Legolas stated, “I will. It was my eyes that were deceived and my mind that must be laid to rest.”

“This is highly irregular! Sire, he is not even of the guard and…”

“Step aside, Captain,” Gimli groused.

Legolas quickly scaled the wall, but hesitated near the top. He could hear an odd sound within. A sort of grumbling. And the smell…

“Orcs!” Legolas shouted, releasing the rope and dropping to the ground, “Orcs hold the tower!”

Silence. No one moved. No one responded, either on the ground or above. Then a very human laugh was heard from within and Legolas felt his blood freeze. Gimli looked torn and frustrated. He stepped forward and grasped the rope himself, taking the first few pulls to raise himself up.

“Gimli, please,” Legolas pleaded, “My eyes and nose are _not_ deceived!”

“I’m armed,” Gimli snapped, “Let them come!”

Legolas stepped back, pulling out his bow and arrow and training it on the window as Gimli climbed up, but Rustle stepped in his way.

“I’ll not have a madman pointing weapons at our Lord!”

“I’m not mad!” Legolas argued.

“Your appearance would speak otherwise, _elf!”_ Rustle snapped, “You can’t simply don our clothes and pretend you are some other kind! I admire what you do for our Lord, but you are clearly unhinged!”

“Enough you two!” Gimli snapped, turning from where he had nearly reached the summit, “I’ll not have…”

His words were cut off by a sword grasped in a deformed arm arching out of the window and towards him. Gimli flailed in the air, his horizontal pose twisted as he tried to avoid the harsh stab. Legolas shouted in horror and Gimli plummeted towards the ground. At the same moment three swords were pressed into his sides and a bow drawn back from a distance behind him. He listened to the stretch of the bowstring and trained his ears beyond it to where Gimli lay still upon the ground.

_No. No. No._

“Your very presence weakens and distracts our Lord,” Rustle sneered, “For that I owe you thanks. We had nearly lost hope in finding a way to lure him away from his pretty caves.”

At that moment his face twisted and Legolas stared in horror at the visage before him. It seemed he was not the only one to think of disguising himself as another species! Before him stood an orc, who had used perfumes, false hair, and quite possibly a knife to make himself appear human! His face was much smoother when he held it still, but now that he was leering Legolas could see his foul shape. Then his smile retreated and Legolas realized he was wrong as the human face re-emerged.

“You are a crossbreed!”

“Did you think the people of Rohan could live so close to the mountains and their plague without feeling their taint? Long have I served the Lord of this Fort with loyalty and love, but my _other_ kind are suffering! They starve and freeze each winter while men prosper! Why? Because of their ugly shape? No more! We deserve a home of our own and Helm’s Deep is the perfect mixture of man and _orc_! We will take it for ourselves and dwell in the caves and keep that you so _kindly_ repaired for us. Those of us who resemble humans _enough to trick an elf_ will prosper with the trade Lord Gimli set up for us! His _tragic_ demise during the winter months will only serve to spur the elves to kindness for his poor people. Your soft lot will…”

Legolas moved swiftly. His first turn drew his human sword and knocked the three enemy weapons away from his delicate parts, his second turn struck the arrow from the air and sent it soaring up to imbed itself in the neck of another crossbreed that was leaning out of the high window, his third turn brought his sword in contact with Rustle’s. He knocked the stubborn creature back and then spun to defend himself from the rear. Swords clashed and rang out but a voice was heard over them.

“Stop! _Stop!_ Throw down your weapons, I say! Am I your Lord or am I not?!”

The battle stilled, though no weapons were lowered completely. Legolas lowered his sword a few inches. Gimli was on his feet, panting as the wind had been knocked out of him. He stepped forward with his eyes flashing and his teeth clenched.

“How many are you, Rustle?” Gimli asked, “Orc and half. How many?”

“Why would you know this?” Rustle asked.

“There were times we dined together, smoked, drank, and shared jokes. I would not put those times behind me.”

Legolas stilled in shock, “You would make _peace_ with these _things?!”_

“Not long ago elves thought dwarrow to be disgusting and low-brow. Now one shares a bed with me, even if in secret.”

“They have betrayed you!”

“They are _desperate_ ; hungry, cold, and in need of shelter. That is what I heard. Did you hear different?” Gimli asked.

Legolas lowered his weapon the rest of the way, “No, but they did not come to treat with you, my Lord.”

“Then perhaps they will think better of such options now that I’ve suggested it. Old habits are hard to break, aren’t they _Sora_?”

Legolas nodded and held out his arm, “Peace, Rustle?”

Rustle hesitated a moment, “I am not the leader of my kind. I am only a recent addition. I can not speak for the rest of the orc and goblin kind that hide in the mountains.”

“Then we must speak with them,” Gimli replied, “They are more comfortable during darkness, yes? Take them a message from me. We will meet with them at twilight tomorrow to discuss a peaceful treaty.”

“You assume too much,” Rustle replied, his voice tense, “Did you think we worked on only one front? I am not the only one to have insinuated himself into a position in Helm’s Deep. Even now your fiefdom is being overthrown, the gates opened for our return as disguised orc and half-orc enter without challenge. They are not the first to do so, nor will they be the last.”

“What of the guards who stayed here?” Legolas asked.

“They were always orc-breed,” Rustle replied, then shouted up at the tower in their mangled tongue.

“What violence will your contingent enact?” Gimli asked.

“Nothing until they are found out. Once it is seen that you are not with them they will try to lie their way through it, then dispurse amongst the people who frantically set out to search for you. They will hide in the nooks and crannies of Helm’s Deep. Your people will emerge and ours will return. Over and again until the entire of Hornburg is ours.”

“And those who leave are to be slaughtered,” Gimli growled out, “How long? How many of my people have you killed like this?”

“None yet,” Rustle replied, “The first duty was to distract everyone with _your_ disappearance.”

“Then we have time to stop this!” Legolas stated, “Give Lord Gimli a chance! This _can_ be peacefully resolved!”

Rustle hesitated, glancing up at the tower where several orc-breed had slipped down. They grunted amongst each other and weapons were slowly lowered.

“We’re tired of fighting,” Rustle replied, “We want peace. Lead on, dwarf Lord.”

Back to Helm’s Deep where the bells were being sounded. Just as they were approaching the gates they heard the Horn sound, screaming out across the frosty waste.

“None will come,” Gimli grunted, “Look to the sky, Sora! The snow is upon us!”

True enough a few flurries were coming down and the sky threatened more. No aid could come from the nearest cities once it began to truly storm. It would mean death. Only a few carefully led sleighs with supplies would arrive, hoping to reach the survivors in time to succour them and find out if the threat would move soon. The orcs had indeed thought up a clever plan this time, and they would either die or thrive together.

Gimli pulled out his horn and sounded a blast and Rustle wasn’t far behind, his tune a signal to those inside that were _his_ allies. Hopefully he wasn’t calling them to turn on their neighbours in violence. The gates were thrown open and the proper party returned. They came in through the second set of gates to find a group of human and dwarf guards staring at them in shock, weapons drawn and eyes wide. Gimli stepped forward and nodded to the false contingent that had returned in Rustle’s stead. They did indeed look human and dwarf, and he shuttered to know what that meant.

“Greetings,” He stated, “And well met, my hopeful friends. We have much to discuss.”

“Indeed we do,” Merda stated, stepping out from the group of them and nodding to Rustle, “Hello, kinsman.”


	11. Chapter 11

“We’ve been thrice tricked,” Legolas decided as they gathered in the warm halls. The snow was now coming down fast and hard and would continue to do so. Without a doubt the last wagon sent to the elves would be stranded there for the winter, though it was hardly the first time, and no aid would come from the surrounding towns.

“Four times, if that last wagon load had orc-breed in it,” Gimli stated, he was holding his son in his arms as if he was afraid he would vanish into mist. On Merda’s lap sat his daughter with tears staining her cheeks.

“Not this time,” Merda replied softly, “I can not apologize to you enough, Gimli.”

Merda’s cheeks were stained with tears as well. It seemed Rustle and Merla shared the same father, each being sired by rape. Rustle knew of Merda’s pregnancy by his sire and had been the one to suggest she pass the offspring off as Gimli’s. His son was truly his, but his daughter who he had loved these many years was part orc and part dwarf- not even his own kin.

“If you had just _come_ to me,” Gimli replied miserably.

“I feared your rejection,” Merda replied, eyes dropping, “And the stigma my little girl would face.”

“She looks dwarf,” Gimli replied, “I see no orc in her at all.”

“She takes after me,” Merda replied with a soft smile, “I have hoped this long time that she truly _was_ yours, that I had miscarried the forced pregnancy and ended up pregnant by _you_ without realizing it. I was shown the error of my thoughts a few nights ago when I found her studying claws growing on her toes!”

“I like them,” Merla sniffled, “But I’ll let you cut my toes off if you don’t, papa.”

Legolas held his breath, afraid for a moment that Gimli would renounce his false daughter.

“Nay, child,” Gimli replied, “I’ll not cut your toes off. Who knows what advantage the claws might be? Eh? Maybe you’ll scale trees as well as an elf!”

Gimli laughed a bit, though it was forced, and a smile finally blossomed across the little girl’s face. Legolas was struck with a sudden urge to hug her and gave in to it, crossing the room to kneel down and pull the little girl into his arms.

“Besides, my star pupil may need her toes to dance,” He replied, pulling her into a quick jig. Merla laughed, grasping his fingers and swinging from them joyously.

When he returned the smiling child to her mother she hopped free and ran to Gimli to hug him and kiss her brother on the head.

 _Half-brother. Does she even understand this?_ _I rather think not. She is too young for this burden._

“What now, Gimli?” Merda asked, “The people here don’t need more mouths to feed.”

“The Horn was sounded,” Gimli replied, “Supplies will come from our closest neighbors. They have better fields than we do and can spare the grain. How many are you, Rustle?”

“One hundred fifty-three,” Rustle replied. He was speaking for their leader, an old orc who sat beside him with many battle scars and even more wrinkles. He spoke none of their tongues but was apparently the mastermind behind the two-fold plan. Two-fold in that it first made it look as if they planned to invade and then got the Lord to listen to their plight. There had never _been_ a plan to slaughter the denizens of Helm’s Deep, only to convince them to take in the less human and dwarf looking of the orc-kind by pointing out that they could still be wicked foes… and had in fact long been secret allies.

“A burden, but not an impossibility,” Gimli grunted, “The question is how do we make this work? I don’t want everyone suspecting their neighbours, but neither do I want to mark every orc-breed as such and then set them loose on the streets to be picked off for target practice!”

Rustle and the leader conveyed a moment, “How much is known of our attempts today?”

“Nothing,” Gimli replied, shaking his head.

“Then I suggest we create a ruse,” Rustle replied, still speaking for his leader, “We tell the people that disguises were used- not breeding- and that those sneaking into the city did so in desperation. We tell them that you have taken pity on the orcs and are taking them in, but in return you are imprisoning them to make sure of the safety of all. This way you will have those who _appear_ as orcs locked away but those who are not orcs will be free to work and live as they always have. You will be benevolent in the eyes of all and not at all weak. We will continue to hold this truce- using our own people as part of the agreement in your prisons- and come spring the truth will be told. Once the people see that we can be civil we can begin true discussions of peace.”

Gimli glanced at Legolas who turned to them curiously, “How do we know whom we can trust? The guards who hold your willing captives may well be their allies.”

“We could have overthrown you easily,” Rustle replied after a pause for translation, “Yet we did not. We have told you our numbers and placed ourselves at your mercy. You can trust us or not. Only time will tell.”

“Aye,” Gimli replied, “And I’ll either have my throat slit in my sleep or wake each day to watch my children grow up in a world that _just might_ have the peace I’ve never known. Very well. We’ve little choice with the snow already a foot deep out there. Aid will never come and we’re already infiltrated. Disarm your identifiable members and bring them in under a white banner. From now on we shall work towards peace.”

XXX

“I could have lost you today,” Legolas spoke softly, “I’ve lived with that fear before, but now it is sleeping in the same halls with us.”

“You think I made the wrong decision?”

“No. I think I am afraid in ways I have never been before,” Legolas replied, “Similar to how I felt when we thought… when I thought a friend had died… but in a more personal way.”

“Well,” Gimli sighed, “Either we live through it or we die. It’s not an unfamiliar situation but… the feelings are more intense.”

“I’ve never been in love before,” Legolas replied, “Intense seems like a weak word for the way I feel for you.”

Gimli smiled softly, “Aye, I could spend the rest of my life with you and never have enough time.”

Legolas gave Gimli a heartbroken look, “I could say the same.”

“How does this work?” Gimli asked, “All pretence aside, I know who you really are and now you know I know. Arwen chose a mortal life and now she ages. What of you?”

“What will happen to me is different,” Legolas replied, “I was banished. My fate is to live my immortal life out until death finds me or I fade away.”

“Then you will stay like this? Beautiful while I turn old and frail? I’m not sure whether to feel elated at the idea of having a sexy young lover for the rest of my life or sorry for you for having to either put up with me or leave me once I’m full of more farts than erections!”

“Or… having found no pleasure in the idea of fading away… I could tie myself to you as Arwen did to Aragorn.”

“How fast would you age if you did?” Gimli asked hesitantly.

“I would age as you did and die when you die,” Legolas replied.

Gimli shook his head, “No. I’d rather you outlived me-”

“I don’t _want_ to!”

“-And kept an eye on my children when I pass away. They’ll be yours too, if you want them to be.”

“I do,” Legolas replied.

“Well, Merla is _different_ ,” Gimli replied miserably, “She’ll be facing a great deal of strife. By association so will her brother Balinor. I know I’m asking a horrid burden of you, but they are _everything_ to me.”

Legolas nodded and stepped forward, slipping his arms around Gimli’s shoulders, “I would do all you ask and more, my love.”

“And for you I will tolerate brown curly hair and a beard,” Gimli chuckled.

“I thought you’d _like_ them that way!” Legolas asked in surprise.

“I fell in love with Legolas Greenleaf, the fair and stuble-less. I’ll get used to it but I do miss your former looks.”

“Perhaps in time I can wear them again. At least when we’re alone. Just let me adjust to Sora first.”

“Aye, I can live with that,” Gimli nodded, “Now let’s away to bed… and hopefully we’ll wake in the morning. A pity setting guards would be problematic.”

“You did double them,” Legolas reminded.

“Aye, but who did I double?!” Gimli groaned.


	12. Chapter 12

Friends, I am SO SORRY. I've had this chapter written for ages and forgot to post it. :'(

 

 

 

Gimli was afraid for their lives, so he had Merda pack up the children and a few essentials and moved them into his room for the night.

“Here I am protecting my family while my people sleep through the night without the knowledge I have!” Gimli groaned, “Would that I could warn them!”

“They may be safe,” Legolas replied.

“Yes, but to keep this from them!” Gimli shook his head in misery.

On the large bed that Legolas had hoped to sleep _alone_ with Gimli on that night was his daughter. She was jumping up and down and laughing happily. She was excited to have a slumber party with her papa. Legolas was wondering how the words ‘slumber’ and ‘party’ could go well together. Gimli had immediately informed him that dwarrow could turn _anything_ into a party.

The children were set up in the middle between Merla and Gimli and Legolas was on the edge behind Gimli, who had insisted his lover remain. Merla for her part seemed content with this arrangement, smiling at them fondly whenever they were near each other. The children were far from sleepy, Balinor had just learned to walk and was attempting to jump as his sister was. Merda and Gimli laughed along with them at first, but after a few hours of rambunctious children falling on them in the night they put their feet down and demanded the children lay still. They whined at first but eventually Balinor fell asleep and Merla did so not long after out of sheer boredom.

Legolas lay awake long after his strange family had fallen asleep, listening to soft snores and mutters in the night. Gimli eventually rolled over and wrapped one meaty arm around Legolas’ waist. He ran his fingers through the thick hair on his arm and breathed in his spicy scent.

_How I love him! How I love them all! My heart is full to bursting._

Legolas’ mind wandered as he drifted into the reverie and it focused on an event in the not so distant past.

_“It is simple, Legolas,” Thranduil announced, “You will collect this beloved of yours and return to the Undying Lands. Galadriel will allow you entrance when she graces your side.”_

_“It’s not that simple, honoured father,” Legolas replied miserably, “My beloved isn’t even an elf, in fact-”_

_“It would be a strange thing to allow, but if The Lady demands it-”_

_“My beloved is a man,” Legolas finished, his voice coming out strangled._

_Thranduil’s eyes darkened, “We have discussed this before. It is an evil which you MUST PURGE.”_

_“I cannot. I love him, father. He consumes my every thought.”_

_“You turn my stomach with such words!”_

_“Perhaps more work,” Legolas suggested, “You said before if I kept myself busy, buried myself in my tasks…”_

_“Which clearly didn’t work!” Thranduil snarled, “Since you were caught staring at other elven men while they bathed!”_

_“I cannot change what I am!” Legolas wailed, pulling at his hair in frustration, “Women turn my stomach, not my head!”_

_“Lies! You’ve been with them before!”_

_“When I was young and fancied anything with two legs!” Legolas argued, “I barely enjoyed it the second time and didn’t the first!”_

_Thranduil’s hand flew out and struck Legolas’ face before he could react, “You speak such foul words in my presence?!”_

_Legolas’ eyes burned with tears, and when he spoke his voice was soft and broken, “I cannot change what I am. What will you do with me?”_

_“Nothing,” Thranduil snarled, “You have made your fate. Take yourself into the woods. You will not spend your disgusting life disgracing my halls. Perhaps some time as a hermit, even until old age settles you, will get you to chose a_ female _bride. Perhaps then Galadriel will allow you to enter Valor.”_

_Legolas took himself from his father’s sight, climbing a tree deep in Mirkwood and curling up on the branches. He let himself weep as he had not since Galadriel gave him such a sad look and told him to return to Middle Earth to fetch the other half of his heart. Who had she meant, if not Gimli? Was there a woman out there who could turn his head? Perhaps a dwarrow? No. He couldn’t manage that! It would only make him long for Gimli more, and turn his affection for her into bitterness. No woman deserved that._

_Miserable, Legolas turned to wine to ease his pain. It would be his downfall._

_“Just one kiss, Legolas,” Aurien pleaded, “One kiss to send me to my reverie in peace.”_

_“You are Tauriel’s husband,” Legolas worried, “She would never forgive me.”_

_“I’ve been the only elf besides she to allow you in their presence,” Aurien replied, his face turning angry, “You would reject my request? Is one kiss so much to a man who has lusted after men so long?”_

_“I would not share my shame with you.”_

_“Perhaps I would_ take _it,” Aurien growled angrily, “A kiss, Legolas! Or you can return to your tree and sleep in the rain!”_

_Legolas hesitated and then darted forward to press a kiss to Aurien’s cheek. He was caught offguard by the frisson of excitement that went through him. He’d kissed a man! Aurien saw his excitement and noted that he did not retreat from him as far as before. He darted forward and pulled Legolas against his hard body. Legolas moaned into the heated kiss, aroused by the firm touch as strong hands gripped his shoulders. He returned his ardour with equal measure until a hand slipped down to his bottom and then his mind flashed to Gimli, spreading his cheeks and pressing a toy into his body while moaning so deeply…_

_Legolas pulled away, turning his back and panting to regain his composure, “I must go. This is wrong, Aurien. I will tell Tauriel of our trespass in the morning so she may…”_

_The sword grazed Legolas’ shoulder, but his reactions were fast. He avoided what would have been a deathblow and turned quickly to defend himself. His knives flashed out and countered the next attack. Instinct and the heat of wine drove his next moves. He ducked beneath Aurien’s blade and dove in for a disabling strike to his abdomen. At the same moment another blade flew out of the shadows, Tauriel’s eyes flashing hurt and anger. Her blade crossed his and they staggered, tangled in each other’s legs. All three toppled to the ground. When Legolas pushed himself upright his dagger was buried in Aurien’s heart, the life quickly fading from the elf’s eyes. They both attempted to keep him inside his body, chanting frantically while laying hands on him, but it was a deathly blow they had struck him and the elf was soon cold beneath their hands. Tauriel wept. She had a son who would grow up never knowing his parents once she was banished forever due to her part in his father’s death._

_“I will not let that come to pass,” Legolas promised her, “This was_ my _transgression. I will pay for the outcome. Alone.”_

Legolas’ blinked, his eyes refocusing on the here and now. Gimli had nuzzled up against him more firmly, his morning wood pressing into Legolas’ hip. Legolas smiled, but recalled the other occupants of the bed before his hand could cup that hot bulge. He yawned and stretched, hoping it would stir Gimli to consciousness, but the dwarrow slept on. Merda, however, yawned and sat up on her side of the bed.

“I’ve slept better on shards of slate and frozen ground,” She grumbled, “How are children both pointy and wiggly at the same time?”

Legolas chuckled, “I’ve not spent enough time around children of any kind to know that answer.”

“Elf, human, dwarrow, orc; they’re all the same. Pointy and wiggly. And awake when you want them asleep, then asleep when you need them awake. The sun holds no sway over them.”

Legolas shook his head in amusement, “Perhaps we are not so different after all.”

“Perhaps not, friend Sora. Me thinks your bedmate needs some attention,” Merda winked, nodding down towards where Gimli had rolled onto his back. He was tenting the fabric of the bedspread and Legolas immediately glanced towards the children in concern, “Don’t worry. Even if they were awake they wouldn’t notice. Children have a strange ability to dismiss things that their minds are too young to take in. Gimli won’t be the first father to awaken in such a way. Here, I’ll get them up and out before he wakes. Men always sleep through the whinging of children. It is the curse of women to awake at their every sigh.”

“Gimli is no heavy sleeper,” Legolas replied, confused by her words. Yet sure enough Gimli didn’t stir at all while Merda awoke the children, dressed them, armed herself, and dragged their whining forms out into the hall to find breakfast.

Once they were gone Legolas shook his head in amusement. He thought he’d test a theory and reached for the nightstand where his knife lay sheathed and ready to defend them in the night. He slipped the blade from the leather, allowing it to hiss the way it would if a human had drawn it. Gimli’s eyes flew open and his hands flew out, reaching for anything to use as a weapon as he sat bolt upright in bed.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Legolas chuckled, “Merda was right. You do sleep through the sounds of your children, yet you are no light sleeper.”

“The kids? They’re alright?” Gimli stammered, glancing around in sleepy confusion.

“Merda took them to break their fast, leaving me to deal with your staff.”

“My what?” Gimli asked, “I don’t fight with a… oh!”

Legolas had cupped that hot, hard rod while Gimli had been stammering about weapons and the dwarf moaned and fell back in the bed with a dopey grin on his face.

“Oh, how I’ve longed to wake up like this,” Gimli groaned, hips rolling up as Legolas stroked him through his pants.

“This is… good, then?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Gimli groaned, “You know what would be better?”

“Your hand on my shaft?” Legolas teased, rutting against his hip.

“No,” Gimli grinned, “My shaft in your lily white arse.”

“I…” Legolas panted, “I haven’t prepared myself.”

“We’ve a bath to do that in.”

“I’m clean enough, I meant… I haven’t used my plug on myself.”

“I’ll do that happily.”

“You’d put it inside me?” Legolas shied away.

“Come my love,” Gimli purred, “I want to see it sink inside of you. Or perhaps you’d prefer my fingers to tease you open?”

“I… I… I’ll be right back,” Legolas squeeked, and fled towards his bath chambers.

Gimli waited for him, stroking himself enough to maintain an erection until Legolas crept back out with a shy look on his face. He was stark naked and half erect.

“I just wanted to make _sure_ ,” Legolas stated hesitantly.

“It’s fine,” Gimli smiled, patting the bed beside him.

Legolas came to the edge of the bed, his breath shaky as he gave Gimli a look of intense longing, “I’ve wanted this since… back then.”

“I know,” Gimli purred, “I’ve wanted it as well. Still, I’m willing to go the other way sometime if you like.”

“I would, but I’ve had _this_ in my mind. That plug did such strange things to my body and I want it again.”

“Then come here and let me open you up, my flower.”

Legolas climbed onto the bed, his movements flowing like water, and laid himself down on his belly after stretching like a cat to show off his nude form. Gimli smirked and leaned forward to stroke his bottom with one hand, gripping his arse tightly and then spreading his cheeks to stare down at the hairless pink pucker beneath him.

“Beautiful.”

“My arsehole?!” Legolas laughed.

“You’ll soon be moaning over mine as well,” Gimli chuckled, “It’s amazing what you’ll find attractive after it’s been wrapped around your cock!”

“True,” Legolas smiled, as Gimli fetched the oil and sat it on the table beside them, “I already adore your hands.”

Legolas lifted his legs in the same fashion Gimli had all those years ago when he’d first tought Legolas what pleasured could be found inside his body. Gimli smiled at him and leaned forward to breathe against his pucker.

“You spent so much time cleaning it seems a waste not to give you a kiss or two,” Gimli leered then ran his tongue in a circle around Legolas’ furled hole.

“Oh!” Legolas gasped, rolling over and clenching his legs shut. Gimli chuckled and pushed them apart, grasping him beneath his knees so he could lap at him hungrily.

Legolas writhed in desire, pulling at Gimli’s braids as he gasped and cried out at the foreign pleasure curling through his body. Gimli’s tongue had turned from lathing him to pushing into his body, opening him up with a pointed and eagerly thrusting muscle. Gimli moaned against his body, slobbering on him liberally while Legolas whimpered at the tickle of the fluids dripping down his cleft. Gimli worked his way up and gave his taint a suckle, pressing against it with his tongue until Legolas groaned and arched his back in want. Gimli paused to slick his fingers with oil and Legolas scrambled to pull his legs up again. A pillow was shoved beneath his bottom to keep him in place and Legolas bit his lip in anticipation. Gimli returned to suckling on his bollocks, a feeling that Legolas had difficulty deciphering as his brain both liked and disliked it, as his finger circled Legolas’ now gaping hole three times before slowly easing inside.

“Oh my,” Legolas sighed. This was ten times better than the plug. The plug had burned on the way in, it’s shape unforgiving. Gimli’s fingers were soft but firm, pushing into him and easing the way slowly.

The second digit was more satisfying, giving Legolas a more full feeling that left him all but purring. Gimli was working his way up Legolas’ cock, his mouth moving along the shaft with soft suckling motions. As he neared the head Legolas’ cock twitched in anticipation. He was teasing the underside as he scissored his fingers, and he paused there long enough to make Legolas toss his head in frustration.

“Gimli!” He snapped, his tone scolding.

Gimli chortled against his dick, making his cock bounce appreciatively. Just as he pressed a third finger into Legolas’ body he swallowed down the head of his cock. Legolas howled, hips kept still by the invading touch even while Gimli suckled away the burn through his throbbing shaft. Legolas felt his bollocks draw up and feared he would finish too soon, but Gimli was aware and pulled away, pumping his hand faster as he hurried things along. He’d avoided Legolas’ prostate despite the fact the elf kept arching his back in an attempt to get him to prod his sensitive spot.

“Soon,” Gimli soothed, “I want to see you wriggling on my cock. How should I take you, hm? Would you like to mount me and ride me like a horse of Rohan? Or have me press you into the mattress and shake you to your core? Or perhaps something a bit more savage will meet your mood seeing as how I denied you a battle yesterday? What say you to me dragging you onto your hands and knees and fucking you till your teeth chatter in your pretty skull?”

“Yes!” Legolas gasped, then groaned in want as his body clenched around air at Gimli’s removal.

“Which, my dear?” Gimli purred.

“In me! Now! Here!” Legolas demanded, arms flying up to reach for him.

Gimli growled in approval and pressed Legolas into the mattress. He lined his cock up with his bum and slid himself deep inside of Legolas’ body in one smooth stroke. Legolas gasped, legs going around his waist and eyes falling shut. It burned, but in such a perfect way and the _fullness_ was utter bliss. He never wanted Gimli out of his body again. Then Gimli pulled free and plunged back in and Legolas didn’t want him to _ever_ stop moving! The Dwarf growled hungrily as he moved slowly, clearly restraining himself despite his deep desire in order to avoid harming Legolas’ untried body. Legolas grasped his shoulders and moaned as he fell into this new and erotic motion. Gimli’s beard teased his chest, pebbling his nipples. His mouth both gentled with tender kisses and invigorated with sharp bites. Legolas shouted out his pleasure as Gimli stroked that bundle of nerves inside of him that brought him close to the edge almost immediately. He couldn’t stop his cries as Gimli’s gently rounded gut rubbed his own precum all over the head of his cock.

Gimli stilled with a cry and Legolas’ eyes widened as he felt him pulsing deep inside of him. Gimli’s hand flew to the elf’s cock and stroked it firmly. Four quick pumps of his strong hand was all it took and Legolas’ eyes were rolling as he came hard into Gimli’s beard. The dwarf let out a triumphant sound, pumped his hips twice more, and slid free with a proud grin.

“There!” He exclaimed, “Now you _know_ you’ve made the right decision!”

Legolas couldn’t help but laugh at that, bringing a frown to Gimli’s face. He shook his head, and settled his mirth enough to spare his friend’s pride.

“I already _knew_ it was the right decision,” Legolas chortled, “I needed no pleasure to prove it to me.”

“Yes, well,” Gimli flustered, “That had to have made it _worth_ it though?”

“Yes,” Legolas snickered, shaking his head in amusement, “Yes, of _course_ that helped, my love.”

“Good!” Gimli declared, “Now give me a moment to wash up and we’ll go to breakfast together.”

“I think I’ll join you,” Legolas replied, making a face at his oily backside.

“Good,” Gimli purred, “The more the merrier.”

“Goodness!” Legolas gaped, “Are you never satisfied?”

XXX

Legolas could barely walk by the time he entered the dining hall. His legs were weak from pleasure and his bottom ached in a most pleasant way. He sat down gingerly and accepted a cup of tea from Gimli who was smiling proudly over Legolas’ obviously satisfied smile and doting on his lover quite eagerly. Merda and many other adults were chuckling and giving them fond glances. Boffin hurried over with a spring in his step to clasp both their shoulders and grin at them eagerly.

“You see, my dear brother?” Boffin stated proudly, “Our troublemaker is gone, our allies are increasing, and your bed is finally warmed by someone who treats you as the Lord you are!”

Legolas and Gimli exchanged amused glances as Boffin strode off with a spring in his step as if _he’d_ been the one getting laid all morning.

“I thought everyone knew?” Legolas asked.

“I’ve no idea,” Gimli chuckled, “I saw right through you, and so did Rustle, but perhaps others haven’t figured it out? You do look like a human, but my long acquaintance with you makes it artificial.”

“So some may be fooled still?” Legolas asked in amusement.

“The rumour mill will settle that,” Gimli chuckled, “But some will always believe it a ruse. They’ll look on you sadly as the human who took Legolas’ place because he looked similar, doomed to love me fully while I only loved him in part because of his resemblance.”

“How tragic!” Legolas cried, throwing his head back and placing the back of his hand on it.

Gimli laughed loudly and Legolas joined him happily. Their mirth was cut short as Rustle strode into the great hall.

“Greetings, my Lord,” Rustle bowed, “Our new ‘guests’ have their accommodations and my men and I are ready to resume our usual patrol. Do you still require the guards to be doubled?”

“I think not,” Gimli replied, “But perhaps it wouldn’t be amiss to try and get word to another area and explain our situation. There may be other camps of orcs out there in danger of perishing. I feel this winter in my bones. It’s going to be a hard one.”

“The snow is three feet deep, my Lord,” Rustle replied, “I know of no one who could make the trip and survive to return here with news.”

“I have a way to communicate with a few outside of here,” Gimli replied with a smug grin, “I sent word out last night. By morning my kinsmen in the nearby mountains will know of our guests and that there may be others in need.”

“Your mercy is unparalleled,” Rustle replied, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he bowed low.

“Keep an eye out for anyone returning here to check up on us after the Horn was sounded. The nearest outpost should be manned once again. Send them with supplies to keep them for several months. I don’t want them dying out there. Besides, I don’t like the horses left to their own even if they _have_ got a nice warm barn out there.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

XXX

Thranduil strode his halls, a proud and gorgeous figure with unfaltering wisdom and strength. He gave his orders with a decisive clip to his voice that no one ever dared to argue with. His hand slashed sharply through the air to cut off a whine from his youngest daughter and she scampered out of his way with a flash of fear in her eyes. He signed a quick proclamation, nodded at the arrangements made for the humans stranded with them for the winter, and left the room with a flourish and smooth sway of his hips to step into… the privy.

There he stood for a moment staring into the dim reflection over a mirror before collapsing into the stool before it he usually used to brush his hair. His head fell into his hands and he finally let himself weep, shoulder’s shaking in misery. His daughter’s feared him. His son was gone, likely destroyed mentally if not quite dead, his wife was long gone from his side, and he was _alone_.

He deeply regretted his actions, but what was he to do? If he had supported his son’s madness he would have been denied access to the Undying Lands as well, but now he wondered if he would be kept out anyway. Or if he would even try to go. He had lost everything that was important to him when he had banished his son. His daughter’s now hesitated to share with him, fearing his wrath would be turned on them. Well it might, as his temper had been quite out of his control for some time. He’d thrown a vase at his eldest just the day after Legolas had left! Now he felt cold and angry in turns.

Because of tradition. Humans shed tradition by the stone, as if it were so much burden to them, even as they kept true to themselves. Dwarrow kept kin closer than anything else, disregarding even their precious wealth if their kin needed it of them. Even orc would fight to the death for their leader. Yet here was he, Thranduil of the fair folk, who had nothing and no one left to love him.

It turned his mind to the past when a dwarf had once turned _his_ head. He could understand the appeal. Their strength, warmth, joviality, the unbridled fire in their bellies. Yet his love had been doomed from the start and so was Legolas’. He only wanted to spare his son the heartbreak he had endured. To a dwarf there were far more important things than _elves_. Legolas would never matter to Gimli the way Gimli mattered to him. And now this truth had been proven. According to the caravan runners Legolas had slunk away from the Hornburg in the cover of darkness, having been used and discarded for an easier, _human_ mark.

_And I’ve foolishly pushed him away. He can’t even come home to his father for comfort. What have I done?_


End file.
